


America's Junk Drawer

by WhiskeyAdams



Series: America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow [3]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyAdams/pseuds/WhiskeyAdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part III of America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow, Three years following their invitation into the Warehouse, the new agents struggle fitting into this new world of “Endless Wonder”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Truth Hurts

Myka shifted in her chair uncomfortably. The large plush chair felt like it was trying to swallow her whole, and she couldn’t stop herself from moving restlessly under the gaze of the older gentleman sitting across from her, studying her carefully as she jiggled her foot and tapped her fingers.

The room was cold, and Myka had shed her coat upon entering, so there was nothing to hide the Goosebumps that erupted and spread over her arms. The dim lighting in the small room kept her from getting a good look at any of the paintings on the wall, or any of the books in the shelves, so her eyes were forced to wander back to the therapist.

 There was an absurdly loud ticking noise emanating from a rather small clock on the row of shelves to her left, it was a few seconds away from driving her mad, she didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, though. She clenched her teeth against the tumult of words threatening to spill past her lips as she looked up once more.

“Hm,” the man, Dr. Jack Wahrheit, gave Myka a curious look before writing something on his legal pad, “Alright, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, hm?”

“I’ve been nervous, lately,” Myka was working not to reveal more than she had to, but it was difficult under his careful perception, “Not exactly nervous, but… I don’t know off kilter somehow?”

“What do you mean off kilter?” the doctor tilted his head.

“Like the world is not in order, I shouldn’t be where I am.” Myka chewed on her lip, avoiding eye contact with Wahrheit, “The world has made a mistake somewhere.”

“Can you tell me something that you believe is a mistake made by the universe?” he challenged.

“Well, let’s see, I’m dating a woman who is so gorgeous, it’s intimidating. Not to mention the fact that she’s absolutely brilliant, she’s finishing up her doctorate. I mean, I never thought I would be the idiot in the relationship. As if that wasn’t enough, she’s absolutely loaded, not because she’s a trust fund kid or some such nonsense, no she’s making thousands of dollars a day off of her inventions. It’s just…” Myka trailed off, tracing her finger over the patterns on the couch.

“Intimidating?” The man sitting opposite her supplied with a small smile, “And you think the world has made the mistake of creating this relationship?”

Myka bit her lip and nodded, “I can’t help but feel inferior to everything she does. And, even worse, that at any minute she’s going to realize that I’m just… me. Working a government job that barely pays for my room at this little bed and breakfast, with absolutely nothing to offer her. And there are all these guys and girls just waiting for her to come to her senses. Often I think that if it weren’t for her kid…” Myka trailed off with a pained expression on her face, her eyebrows scrunching together.

“Your girlfriend has a child? From a previous relationship?” he tapped his pen thoughtfully on his white mustache before writing something in the little notepad in his hand, “How old is she?”

“Seven… well, she’ll be eight this summer.” Myka corrected herself automatically, she could practically _hear_ Christina’s insistence that seven and three quarters was practically eight- and therefore she deserved a later bed time.

“And is the father in the child’s life?” The therapist crossed his legs as he watched Myka’s expressions carefully.

“Yes.” She bit out between tightly clenched teeth.

“Does it bother you?” he pushed, leaning forward.

“Not as much as it used to,” she breathed.

“Let’s get back to you, what is it you do for a living? You said you had a government job?”

“I’m an assets collector,” Myka bit down on the inside of her cheek, looking out the window at the over cast skies giving the whole town a gloomy feel, “It takes me away from home at least once a week.”

“Do you think that’s a contributing factor to the strain on your relationship with your girlfriend?” his watery brown eyes squinted at Myka.

“It certainly has caused some strife in the past.” She mumbled, pulling on the ends of her hair.

“Just how long have you and your girlfriend been together, Ms. Bering?” he looked over his page and a half of notes on his new patient.

“Three and a half years, and we’ve been living together nearly the entire time,”

“You two got an apartment together then?” he began writing once more.

“Yes,” she nodded, “Well no. I moved into her apartment before we moved out here for work. But it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was right across the way from mine.”

“So you gave up your apartment to live in hers, interesting,” he nodded, “And this bed and breakfast you are currently staying in, you two share a room, yes?”

“Yeah,” but there was a tug that had Myka correcting herself once more, “Well, no, we each have our own rooms, but we usually stay in each other’s room anyhow.”

“I see, and is that your room or hers that you tend to share most often?” the therapist crossed his arms over his chest.

“Hers.” Myka’s voice was quiet. She hadn’t ever thought much on it before, but now…

“Ms. Bering, how is your relationship with your family?” he switched topics without preamble.

“Okay, now.” Myka nodded, relieved.

“Now? Was it not always?” he grasped.

“No,” Myka lifted her shoulder and tilted her head, “My mom and I had some trouble for a little while when I first started dating Helena, and my dad and I haven’t always had the easiest relationship. They always seemed to get on better with my little sister.”

“And just how is your “little” sister fairing these days?” the therapist quirked his eyebrow.

“She’s great. She has a little girl, Clair. She’s turning three in May. Her and her husband have just bought a house, I was supposed to fly out to see them, but…” Myka found herself trailing off once more.

“Are you jealous of your sister?” he crossed his arms.

“What? No,” Myka put her hands up, “She’s in a commited relationship with someone she loves, and she has a beautiful baby girl and a new house… I’m happy for Tracy. I’m happy for everyone in my life.”

“You’re friends have fared well, I take it?”

“I suppose,” Myka allowed, focusing for a moment on her shoes, “My best friend Pete and his girlfriend are making the whole long distance relationship thing work since they both travel for work. They see each other a few days out of the month, but I can tell they are happy. Claudia, who is too smart for her own good, she’s finally reconnecting with her long lost brother, and that’s going well for her… And don’t get me started on Steve, who’s been having this on again off again relationship with a doctor from his home town.” Myka cut herself off with a nervous chuckle.

“Alright, Ms. Bering, our time is almost up, so I’m going to be blunt,” he dropped his notepad onto the coffee table, “This fear of abandonment and feelings of inadequacy you have stem from you allowing yourself to be put in relationships where you can be perceived as the lesser individual. My advice to you is to step up, demand more for yourself, otherwise, cut yourself out of these relationships. After all, you shouldn’t allow yourself to be with someone who always makes you feel bad about yourself.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Myka rose from the couch, forcing herself to not run out of the room as fast as possible, she stuck her hand out, “Thank you, Dr. Wahrheit, you are a much better therapist than my usual doctor.” The words stuck in her throat, and she fought the urge to choke them back by biting her lips.

He accepted her handshake, “You’ll make your next appointment with my assistant then?”

Myka simply nodded, before turning and walking out of the office, then out of the building, not bothering to stop at the assistant’s desk.

She was half way down the block her hands buried in her coat pockets when a tall man stepped out of the shadows and fell in to step beside her.

“So?” Pete drew out the word as he ducked his head to catch Myka’s eye.

“Well, the artifact’s definitely in there… I had to get creative with my truth telling.” The taste of lies and half-truths was still thick on her tongue.

“So we go back in and search the place?” Pete suggested, trying to understand the feeling he was getting form his partner.

Swallowing the strange guilt Myka could feel bubbling in her chest, she nodded, “Yeah, let’s check in with home first."

* * *

“Damn it!” Helena jerked her hand back from the machine as it sparked. The annoying buzzing sound coming from behind her caused her to touch the wrong wires together, and she had half a mind to emotionally ruin whomever had rung her on the Farnsworth. She purposely ignored the fact that all the wires were the same grey color, and she most likely would have touched the two wrong ones together anyhow… she was too irrational, too emotionally invested in her little project.

She dropped the pliers into her tool bag before grabbing the communications device off the stool. She glanced around before sighing, giving into her paranoia and walking a few isles down the warehouse before flipping open the Farnsworth.

“Helena,” Myka’s grainy black and white face appeared in the circular screen, a wide smile on her face.

All anger at being interrupted was gone, she hadn’t seen her girlfriend in two days, and each phone call they’d had since she left to Washington for an artifact hunt had been cut short by some disaster or other.

“Myka,” her name cause a wide smile to spread over her face, and she moved the goggles off her face, “Darling, how are you?”

“According to my therapist, I have issues with feeling inadequate,” she smirked, “Oh and abandonment issues. Your girlfriend should probably see a therapist.”

“I know a few,” Helena offered with a smile, glancing quickly in the direction of the front office.

“Nah, it’s all psychobabble bullshit,” Myka waved it off, “How are things going back home?”

“As well as can be expected,” Helena rolled her eyes, “Arthur is driving me up the wall, my partner is brooding over his latest cold front with Dr. Grant, Claudia is getting in trouble with the NSA for hacking some files ‘just to see if she could do it,’ and I swear I am going to need to get a harness and lead for Christina if I ever want to bring her to the Warehouse again.”

Myka chuckled, “I’m sorry, babe. We should be wrapping up this case soon, but until I get home, ask Vanessa to distract Artie, tell Steve to take the weekend to see his boyfriend, ask Claudia to help you on whatever mysterious project you’re working on now, and maybe do consider a leash for your daughter.”

“Why is it she’s only _my_ daughter when she’s misbehaving?” Helena challenged, but her smile was bright, talking to Myka always did have this effect on her. She expected it to lessen as the years passed, but it instead, her affection for the American only seemed to grow.

“Because she’s only misbehaving when she’s pretending to be like her mum.” Myka laughed, but a word from Pete that Helena couldn’t really decipher had her expression falling, “Pete’s just got done talking to Claudia and catching Artie up, I’ve got to go.”

“Alright, be safe, my love.” Helena plead.

“Don’t blow up anything we can’t replace.” Myka replied with a smile before the screen went dark.

Helena let out a heavy sigh as she closed the Farnsworth. She took her time strolling back to the aisle of the Warehouse that she had discovered a few months before while on inventory duty. A punishment from Artie for some grievance HG had already forgotten.

This particular aisle, among others HG was now certain, hadn’t been on any map or report. She wasn’t sure why, but now she didn’t care. It meant no one would think to search here for her. At first the project had been because as she came to the end of her schooling, Helena was feeling less challenged. But after reading notebooks filled with musings and searching through the still sealed crates, HG was obsessed.

It was taking all she had to keep this little pet project of hers hidden, even from Myka.

She justified with telling herself that since Myka never asked what project was working on, she wasn’t technically lying when keeping this from her.

She knew this line of reasoning was irrational, and couldn’t continue for much longer. For now, though, she accepted it as she threw a tarp over her Frankensteined machine and made her way back up the aisles.


	2. Small Town "Charm"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I will update as often as possible, it wont be every day, like I had been doing for the first two parts, since 2120 is my priority right now. But I’ll TRY to get AT LEAST one update a week.

They had been on the case for two days, having flown in when things started to get… weird for the townsfolk. There had been fights breaking out daily, huge fights, neighbors and spouses and friends reacting violently with each other. The police were over whelmed with the amount of domestic disturbances they had been called in on.

It was clear to the two agents what caused the fights: people had begun to tell the truth. Suddenly, affairs came to light, friendships ruined, fights ensued, all because people now had the inability to lie. The more severe cases went so far as to force those effected to spout everything that came to mind.

Abraham Lincoln’s pocket watch was to blame, according to Artie. Whoever had the watch on them, forced whoever he was speaking with to be honest. The longer the exposure, the more severe the honesty became.

They knew it had to be the Therapist, he was the common link to the victims. His patients, neighbors, friends, grocery store clerk… everyone he spoke to became radically honest.

Myka had only spoken to him for fifteen minutes, but she was already clearly effected. It was difficult for Pete not to use her sudden honesty for a laugh as they searched for the now aloof therapist. However, it didn’t take long before he was determined to find him as quickly as possible.

“Wow, honest you is very bitter.” Pete rolled his eyes as they pulled up to the diner Jack Wahrheit was known to frequent.

“I’m sorry I can’t be like you, all rainbows and sunshine!” Myka snapped, “God, I don’t know how Amanda can stand to be around you…” she mumbled before she could stop herself. It wasn’t as if she actually meant what she was saying, she was just getting irritated with her losing the ability to filter her thoughts, and Pete wasn’t making it easy on her.

“Really? Because, you know,” He stopped before they entered, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his shoe scuffed the pavement, “I was actually going to talk to you about it before, I was planning on asking Amanda to marry me, you don’t think she’ll say yes?”

“Oh that’s just fantastic!” Myka threw her hands up, “Who else is getting married in my life? Don’t tell me, Steve and Dr. Hotpants are next right? Then it’ll be Artie and Vanessa! And you and Amanda are, what, gonna do the whole white picket fence, dog and two-point-five kids? Live happily ever after? How bloody wonderful for you!”

“You sound like HG when you get angry.” Pete pointed out, purposely ignoring Myka’s rant. She couldn’t really mean it, could she?

“Don’t get me started on her!” Myka snapped, but her eyes were pleading Pete to _really_ not bring up her girlfriend, not while she was in this state. She clamped her hand over her mouth, gesturing for Pete to hurry up into the diner.

“I think this is the place.” Pete mumbled as they were suddenly surrounded by the sound of yelling, sobbing, dishes breaking, and what Pete guessed was angry Russian cursing.

In the middle of the crowd stood Wahrheit, looking so concerned, trying to get everyone to calm down, but he only seemed to be exasperating the situation. Pete hurried to him, avoiding two catfights and a thrown coffee pot.

He used the excuse of checking to see if he was okay to pickpocket the watch from his coat, “Hey are you alright, man?” he asked, feinting concern as he palmed the watch in his purple gloved hand.

“What has gotten into these people?” His eyes were wild as they darted around the destruction.

“Honesty?” Pet shrugged, turning away from him into a corner where he dropped the watch into a static bag, using his body to block the flashing blue lights that erupted from it.

He watched as sense slowly returned to the people I the diner, to his partner rubbing her temples beside him.

“What the hell happened?” more than one patron asked, looking around at one another, varying shades of confusion and embarrassment crossing their faces.

“Uh,” Pete and Myka looked at one another, “Bad mushrooms?”

* * *

It was eight in the morning when their plane landed at the airport, and another forty minutes still until they reached the B&B that had been their home for the last three years. Myka had tried to apologize for the things she said, fuzzy on the details, but knowing it had been harsh.

Pete just shrugged and told her not to worry about it. It was decided long ago that no one on their team would ever hold anything against someone who had been whammied by an artifact.

Amanda’s car was in the drive when they pulled up, Myka and Pete sat in silence staring at if for a moment. Amanda was out of town more than the agents were, being a rising hotshot lawyer for some huge company meant she had to do actual work. Being that she was so good at her job, an invaluable to her bosses, they also gave her a lot of leeway to work from home.

 “I think you should ask her.” Myka looked at him.

“Really?” His eyebrows turned up, really seeking his best friend’s seal of approval on what he had been thinking about doing for a long time.

“Yeah, I like Amanda. And you two have been through so much together…” Myka trailed off for a moment, “You two are perfect for each other. And she loves you.”

“Thanks Mykes.” Pete’s face broke into his trade mark boyish grin as they stepped out of the SUV.

Amanda met them in the hallway, sighing her boyfriend’s name and rushing to hug him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Pete laughed as he lifted her slightly off the ground.

Myka smiled before going up the stairs. She threw her overnight bag into her own room before walking down to Helena’s. They hadn’t told them that they were headed back right away after finishing up the case, taking the redeye to get home as soon as possible, and Myka was looking forward to spending time with her girlfriend.

That hope was shattered, however, when Myka opened the door to said girlfriend’s room and found a suitcase open on the bed, already filled with clothes and toiletries.

Helena was rooting through her drawer, “Where the bloody hell is it?” she groaned as she began to throw things without regard onto the floor.

Myka knocked on the threshold, “Hey, whatcha lookin’ for?”

Helena spun around, her hand immediately gripping her locket as her eyes fell on Myka’s smirking face, “Myka, you’re home.”

Two four strides later, and Helena’s lips were pressed tightly against Myka’s for a searing kiss, that left them both breathless and aching for more.

They pulled away for air, foreheads resting against one another, “I missed you.” Myka admitted. It wasn’t the longest they’d been away from each other, but they had both felt the absence acutely.

“And I you, my love.” Helnea traced her thumb over Myka’s cheekbone.

“You’re leaving?” Myka asked, head tilting as her attention was brought back once more to the suitcase on the bed.

“Unfortunately,” Helena growled as her eyes rolled, “Arthur has ordered Steve and I to be on a plane to London in,” she glanced down at her watch, “An hour. If we leave now and I drive, we might just make it on time… but I can’t seem to find my passport.”

“it’s in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Myka shook her head, “Why are you guys going to London?”

“What’s it doing in there?” Helena demanded as she moved around Myka to get to the bathroom.

“You put it in there.” Myka chuckled.

“I don’t think I would do that,” Helena argued, as she did in deed find her passport on the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet, “It makes no sense to put it in here!”

“That’s why you did it, babe,” Myka shook her head, “You wanted to put it somewhere ridiculous so you would remember. Since last time you guys had to change your flight because you couldn’t find it.”

“Well, that didn’t seem to work.” She mumbled, walking back to her suitcase and zipping it up.

“I can’t believe you’re being called away on a case,” Myka felt her bottom lip pout, “I just got back!”

“I know, darling,” Helena put a hand on either side of Myka’s face, smiling softly, “And I shall make quick of this case and hurry home to you. I promise.”

“Okay,” Myka agreed, holding on to her adorable pout until Helena laughed and kissed her.

“HG, are you ready yet?” Steve stood in the door way then, bag slung over his shoulder, bouncing form one foot to the other, “Artie told me to tell you that if we miss another flight, you’re doing inventory for a month. Come on!”

“Give me a minute, Steve,” Helena nodded, “I’m nearly done.”

“Why does he pick on you so much?” Myka smiled, referring to Artie’s attitude towards HG most days, considering she had been one of his favorite students back in Fairview.

“I don’t think he’s quite forgiven me for killing his partner.” Helena’s eyes flashed darkly. Though, if put through it again, there was nothing Helena would have changed about what she did, she did feel a pang when reminded she had taken a life.

“Hey, come back to me.” It was Myka’s turn to grab HG’s face softly between her hands, forcing them to maintain eye contact, “Don’t forget, you saved me, and most likely hundreds of other people when you pulled that trigger. Artie knows that.”

“Right,” HG nodded, and Myka could see she no longer wanted to talk about it, “I have to go.”

“Yeah,” Myka kissed Helena once more, “Be safe.”

“I shall try my hardest.” Helena rolled her eyes before grabbing her bag and walking out, she stopped at the door, “I love you Myka.”

Myka beamed, “I love you, too.”

They would never grow tired of being able to say those words out loud to each other.

* * *

Myka decided to take a nap, seeing as flying coach was hardly comfortable, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep over the past few days.

She was happy when she woke up in time to go pick up Christina from school, having missed the little girl as much as she had missed her mother.

The day was warm, and Myka closed her eyes against the sun as she leaned on the hood of her car, enjoying the slight breeze and the silence that could only be found in a sleepy little town like Univille.

It had its charms, that was for sure, but Univille had quickly become home for Myka.

When the bell signaling the end of the school day rang out across the campus, Myka opened her eyes and looked around expectantly.

There was a rush of kids, moving to their parents, for the buses, for the after school program, Myka chewed on her lip, worried that Christina hadn’t come bounding out to greet her yet. She was sure, anyone who picked up Christina weather it any member of the Warehouse team, they all parked in the same exact spot every day, so Christina would always know where to find them. But now, the kids were thinning out, and still there was no over exuberant child running to greet her.

Just as Myka was about to head for the front office, a small girl, black curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing grass stained jeans and a blue shirt, leather messenger bag thrown over her shoulder, slowly came walking towards her. Christina kept her head bent low, watching the ground, not looking up at Myka until she was ten feet away.

Myka’s worry, which had left upon seeing her adopted daughter, now came back full force. It was obvious something was wrong with Christina.

When the seven year old finally looked up, her eyes widened in surprise before breaking out with a huge grin, and she ran the final distance, jumping into Myka’s waiting arms. Myka huffed as she lifted Christina up, holding tightly until Christina put her legs around Myka’s back. She was getting a little big to still be doing this, Myka knew, but if she was honest, she liked it just as much as the girl.

“Mom!” She cheered, locking her arms around Myka’s neck, burying her face in her curls.

“Hey, kiddo,” Myka chuckled.

Christina pulled back slightly until she was able to look into Myka’s eyes, “I thought Mum was getting me today?”

“She got called in on a case, and I flew back this morning and I couldn’t _wait_ to see you.” Myka smiled.

“Was it a tough case?” Christina asked, noticing there was something off about her American mother’s smile.

Myka shrugged, “A little, but I want to know what you’ve been doing for the last three days.” She set Christina down gently, not letting go until both feet were firmly on the ground.

“Well,” Christina’s forlorn expression returned to her face as she suddenly became very interested in her shoes, “Actually, Mrs. Thornton needs to talk to you.”

“You’re teacher?” Myka knelt in front of her, “Why, what happened?”

“I got in trouble today in class, and she wants to talk to you.” Christina sounded angry as she spoke, but her eyes were filled not just with childhood rage, but fear and sadness.

Myka was shocked, Christina, while a handful at home and around the Warehouse, never got into trouble at school or her friends’ houses, always on her best behavior, and the teachers at the school as well as other kids’ parents loved her.

“Okay, let’s go talk to Mrs. Thornton,” Myka held her hand out for Christina’s.

The girl took it, keeping her head down as they walked back to room 23. Christina stopped at the doorway, however, “She wants to talk to _just_ you.” Christina replied when Myka asked what was wrong.

“Alright, sit right here and read your book while I go in, okay?” Myka kissed her forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

Myka stepped into the room, looking around at the student’s works on the walls, to the giant map in the corner, the wall of computers and the wall of book shelves. The majority of the space in the room was taken up by the student’s desks. It was easy enough to find Christina’s seat, her name tag written in beautiful cursive while its neighbors had heavy block lettering. 

Her teacher had placed her in the back of the class room early in the year, thinking if she moved her smartest student in the back of the class, it would give some of the other students a chance to raise their hands in class.

“Mrs. Thornton?” Myka greeted as soon as her eyes fell on the woman sitting at her desk, back to the white board with the night’s homework written in big loopy letters.

Linda Thornton had curly red hair and teal glasses, she looked up at and smiled at the parent standing awkwardly in her classroom.

“Ah, you must be Mrs. Wells, please, have a seat,” she gestured to the desk directly in front of hers, “I’m just finishing up these grades.”

“Thanks,” Myka nodded as she made her way up the aisle, “And it’s Bering, _Miss._ But, just Myka, if you prefer.”

“My apologies,” Mrs. Thornton nodded, “It’s just, the end of the year, and this is the first time I’m seeing you. I assumed… I’m waiting for a student’s mother, so it you could-,”

“Christina, right?” Myka nodded as she sat, “That’s who I’m here to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, I need to talk to one of Christina’s parents,” Mrs. Thornton smiled, though the expression didn’t reach her grey eyes, “You understand, student’s information is confidential. So If I could get Mrs. or Mr. Wells to,”

“I am Christina’s mother,” Myka interrupted. “Or at least one of them.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” the teacher tilted her head, her face contorting as she looked at Myka.”

“Helena Wells is Christina’s biological mother.” Myka explained, a spiky feeling growing in her gut, “I’m _Miss_ Wells’ girlfriend.”

Mrs. Thornton straightened in her chair as if she had been electrocuted, “Right,” her face twitched strangely, “As I said before, Miss Bering, I need a parent to talk to me about Christina’s behavior, not her,” she waved vaguely at Myka.

“ _Mom_ ,” Myka felt her face grow hot as her hands tightened into fists beneath the desk top, “I have shared legal custody of Christina, as I have for years. I _am_ Christina’s mom, so you can talk to me.” She was working hard to keep her voice even, her tone neutral.

“Fine,” Mrs. Thornton bit out, “I need to speak with you about this,” she put a strange object on her desk, close enough for Myka to grab so that she wouldn’t have to hand it to her.

Myka suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she leant forward to retrieve the object. She turned it over in her hands. It was made of popsicle sticks, paper clips, pipe cleaners and glue, everything to make the main body and levers and gears all things to be found in an arts and crafts drawer.

“What is this?” Myka asked, half impressed and half confused. Without really thinking, she pulled the rubber band from around her wrist, she hooked it on the top notch of the end of the thing pointing away from her, pulling it back to hook on another latch.

She aimed at the wall furthest from her, for the cut out “O” in Spelling Words, pushed down on one of the jutting out popsicle stick ends, and the rubber band shot forward with incredible accuracy, hitting the middle of the circle dead on.

“Whoa,” She looked down at the strange contraption, seeing that it had enough room to hold six rubber bands, and could be adjusted to shoot one after the other rapidly, or all at once.

“Your… _Christina,_ ” she corrected herself, “Made that in arts and crafts hour before using it on the playground on another student.”

“Christina made this?” Myka’s chest swelled with pride as she tried her hardest to hide her smirk.

Mrs. Thornton scowled, making her look older than the thirty five years she was, “Yes, and I wanted to talk to her parents about it, try and figure out what was wrong to make her do such a thing, see if we could work together to fix it. But now I think I know what the cause is.”

“What’s that?” Myka turned her cold eyes to the teacher, daring her to say what she just _knew_ she was about to.

“I don’t think Christina has a very stable home life, and that _confusion_ she must be feeling is causing her to act out.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you insinuating that because Christina has two mothers she’s a bad kid?” Myka rose form her chair, her protective mama bear mode, as Pete called it, taking over.

“All I’m saying, Miss Bering, is that perhaps if Christina had a mother and a _father_ she would receive the structure she needs to go through life.” Mrs. Thornton smirked as she too stood, leaning her hands on her desk.

“Let me tell you something here, bitch,” Myka bit out the curse harshly before she could stop herself, and Mrs. Thornton took it like a slap to the face, but Myka didn’t really care, “My daughter is the smartest student in this class, you and I both know that. She has an A in _every_ subject, as she has since kindergarten. She has friends and gets along with her peers. She is _normally_ well behaved. So I’m thinking that the case with you is that you _don’t_ really have a problem with my daughter, it’s me you have an issue with. Because I’m in a lesbian relationship, oh my goodness! Heaven _forbid_ that a child grows up in a loving environment with two parents who love her unconditionally. No, not if it means that it’s not a heteronomitive couple!”

Mrs. Thornton’s face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple, but when she opened her mouth, Myka continued on her soliloquy, “No, I am not done, Mrs. Thornton. Since you are so concerned with my daughter’s home life, I’ll tell you that she has both her mothers, two uncles and an aunt, as well as three others who are there for her whenever she needs it. And she never wants for _anything_ because whatever she needs, we can provide for her. So before you go and stick your nose in my yard and judge me and my life, I suggest you take into account that my sister in law is a lawyer,” Myka turned on her heel, “And you should expect to hear from her.”

Myka stormed out of the classroom, breathing heavily. Christina was waiting where Myka left her, a look of shock on her face.

“Are you alright, Mom?” she asked shyly.

“Yeah, kiddo,” Myka took a breath, trying to be calm in front of her, “Come on, I’ve got to go talk to your principal, and then I am going to take you out for ice cream. How’s that sound?”

“Alright,” Christina nodded still unsure.

Myka took her hand and smiled at her.

It was a quick conversation with the principal, one that held thinly veiled threats and ended with Christina being moved into the other second grade class for the last moth of school.

At the only diner in town, Christina and Myka sat at their usual booth sharing a giant Sunday as Christina explained she created the rubber band shooter months ago to help her friends against school yard bullying.

She explained in a rather devious way that she only had to use it twice before the bully’s learned to never bother anyone. The threat alone of the quarter sized welts they caused was enough. She said she read that the best policy on war was to carry a big stick and speak in a soft voice.

Myka made a note to start screening what Christina read.

Today was the first day she used it against someone who was picking on her, and for that she felt extremely guilty. She had only ever used it for other kids before, but the other kid was a sixth grader, and he was making fun of her.

It took Myka a few minutes to get Christina to tell her what they were picking on her for, and the answer nearly broke her heart. She had been defending her family. She had been defending Myka. 

Myka wasn’t so sure about small town charm anymore.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN1: “Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.” – Theodore Roosevelt.
> 
> AN2: As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t have a whole lot planned for this fic, so if there is something you’d like to see in the story, tell me, and I’ll work on getting it in there.


	3. Leather Apron

One of the perks of being the mind behind some of the most revolutionary inventions over the last four years when the men who bought them don’t want their consumers to _know_ it was you is that you can get almost anything out of them with a perfectly timed phone call or office visit.

Including being able to “borrow” a company’s G550 jet to go overseas. Of course, she only had so long to use it, hence their hasty exit before Helena had a chance to properly greet her girlfriend.

Helena was much more comfortable flying in the private jet then in a commercial airliner. Mostly because she knew the pilots and they took the time to explain much of what they did to her. It was almost relaxing most of the time.

Flying to London, however, came with its own anxieties.

It was supposed to be like going back home wasn’t it? She’d spent the first eighteen years of her life in London, why was she dreading setting foot there?

Perhaps because after the last time, she swore she would never go back. It had caused her nothing but grief and heart break. In the end, however, she had gotten her daughter back, so she supposed it wasn’t all bad…

She wondered briefly, as the plane made it’s decent, if wishing she wouldn’t see her parents made her a bad daughter. Perhaps she could escape this time unscathed by the disappointed looks from her mother, and the painfully indifferent glances from her father. The only family member she truly missed was Charles, and even _he_ she could do without seeing.

“Have you looked over the case yet?” Steve’s voice pulled Helena from her quiet musings, “I mean, not that anyone should have to look at these photos…”

HG looked up at her partner, who was beginning to look a little green as he slowly pushed the file further away from him on the table between them.

“Arthur hadn’t been very informative when he told us we needed to go to London,” she leant forward to take the manila folder, “Then he grumbled something I chose to ignore before shoving us out the door….”

She trailed off when a photo came loose from the stack, falling to her lap. She felt her breakfast try and make a second appearance but she fought against the urge, breathing sharply through her nose, briefly closing her eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed with the look on HG’s face as she paled.

“He didn’t… he didn’t tell us, right? I wasn’t just ignoring him?” Helena worked on centering herself, _separating_ herself from the scene in the photograph she had yet to put back down.

“Maybe he thought we wouldn’t go?” Steve offered.

“You’re an awful liar, Steven,” Helena rolled her eyes, trying to grasp for something that resembled normalcy, “You and I both know we would have flown to London regardless of the… _nature_ of this particular artifact. He didn’t tell us because he didn’t want them to stop us.”

“And by them you mean Myka.” Jinks’ hand twitched for his Farnsworth as it was, wanting to vent to his best friend, but not wanting her to worry.

“Claudia, too.” HG chuckled, “I swear it’s like she has that grumpy old man wrapped around her finger, she would have torn him a new one sending us out there for this.”

“Someone’s gotta do it though,” Steve argued, more with himself then HG, needing the pep talk, “He would have sent Myka and Pete if they hadn’t still been in Washington.”

Sickness rolled through HG once more, this time at the thought of Myka being sent after this particular curiosity in her stead, “You’ll excuse me for being glad that we are on this retrieval rather than her. Though she won’t be too happy when she learns what it is we’re after.”

“Think her and Pete will be jealous they didn’t get sent after Jack the Ripper’s scalpel?” Steve tried with a smile that didn’t quite reach his wide, blue eyes.

“Undoubtedly,” Helena agreed, but they both knew Myka’s anger was going to take casualties when she learned the truth.

Helena spent the next hour reading through the case file, cover to cover, coveting, not for the first time, her girlfriend’s speed reading abilities as well as her infallible memory.

“At least it seems they have the man in custody,” Helena breathed a sigh that wasn’t quite relief. It was difficult to feel relieved when looking at the four women who hadn’t been so lucky, laying bare and eviscerated for the world to gawk upon.

“We just have to get to the scalpel before anyone else accidently touches it.” Steve leant back in his seat, trying to calm his racing thoughts and the anxiety that was bubbling in him.

They had been sent on their fair share of dangerous artifact retrievals, before and after officially joining the Warehouse, but there was something about being so far away from their back up… their friends that made this trip more difficult. And none of them, at least not yet, knew of their mission.

Over the last three years, their most dangerous retrievals had been done with the help of both teams, not to mention Artie and Claudia. This was something that would really test them in the field, and Helena couldn’t help but feel like this was a personal test from Artie for her.

They all had seen the darkness spinning just below the surface that day in the barn. They had all seen what happened to Helena’s calm, picturesque features when she or someone she loves is threatened. They now knew that she was capable of terrible things, and perhaps they didn’t trust her like they should.

Helping MacPherson, even just as a ruse to get close to the man and ultimately find Walter Sykes, had planted the seed of doubt. And HG could just see the wheels of Arties mind turning when he thought about how she killed the man before he had a chance to explain himself to anybody… well, anybody besides the woman who killed him and the woman who loves her.

She was forced to wonder if she would ever earn their trust again.

It was three am when they finally found themselves in a taxi headed towards the Bishopsgate police station, but both agents found themselves completely wired and ready.

They went over the plan over and over as they exited the vehicle half a block from the building in question. They had their badges on them, the ones that labeled them as Secret Service, but that gave them no pull this far from their jurisdiction. They only hoped that the little act they were about to put on would work to get them in.

They entered the grey building, seemingly empty from the looks of it, save for one dozing officer behind the reception desk. Helena quirked an eyebrow at her partner and he gave a shrug in return. Perhaps this was going to be easier than they expected.

HG tilted her head for the back door as she stepped up to the counter. Steve took the hint and moved that way while she rapped her knuckles on the wood, putting on her best smile as she leant forward on her elbows.

The man startled suddenly, nearly falling from his seat, “What in god’s name…” he trailed off as he fixed his shirt, halting his movements when he found the beautiful woman smiling down at him. He quickly wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, feeling the drool there.

“Hello, there.” HG greeted easily.

“Hi,” his voice squeaked out higher than he meant, and he quickly cleared his throat before trying again for a gruffer tone, “How-how may I help you?”

“Slow night?” she rose and eyebrow before glancing over her shoulder to the room.

“A bit, strangely enough, now that we’ve caught that monster,” he sat taller in the chair as her dark eyes trailed over him.

“Ah, yes, I did hear that your station apprehended that tasteless copycat,” HG allowed herself to beam at him before frowning pensively, “Will our city ever be out of the shadow of that mad man?”

“We can only hope to wash that particular bloodstain from the streets.” He nodded to her, trying not to be obvious about ogling her, though her blue button up with one two few buttons was backing it difficult.

“I’m glad to know that we have officers such as yourself keeping us safe,” Helena smiled, watching as her words worked in puffing up the man’s chest, “Speaking of, I would expect this place to be teaming with activity, what with the slasher having been caught.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, leaning ever more forward, causing him to do the same.

“Oh, we moved him to Headquarters as soon as we had him secure.” He assured her, “That’s where most of our officers are now. In the morning we’ll move all the evidence there as well. Not that it’s necessary, the boy all but confessed.”

“Wow, you really are fantastic.” HG dropped her voice, and the man flushed at the sound.

“We’re just doing our job, ma’am,” He smiled, rising so they were eye level, “Was there something I could help you with?”

“Yes, actually,” HG amended the plans in her head, “I had some evidence booked here from a robbery, and I was wondering if it had been processed yet? It’s my mother’s ring, and I’ll just be heartbroken if I cannot get it back as soon as possible.”

“What with all the insanity of the last few months, I doubt it’s been properly filed. But I shall go back and check for you.” He began to step back.

“Wait,” Helena called, working to keep her voice the same, “Do you mind if I head back with you? I’ve always been curious about police work, and since you’re not busy perhaps,” she smiled slowly at him once more, “Perhaps you can give me a private tour of the station?”

“O-of course.” He stammered, “Right this way…”

He put a hand on the small of her back as he lead her through the door Steve had disappeared through moments before.

“Let’s check in on your property first, shall we?” He took her down a corridor.

“Of course,” she slowly began reaching behind her, an inch at a time so as not to be noticed.

“That’s strange,” He frowned, “This door’s not supposed to be open…” he pushed the door open further.

Steve was standing at a pile of boxes, trying to read the messy handwriting, he froze as the officer shouted out at him.

“Hey! Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, stepping in front of HG.

“Um,” Steve scrambled for something to say, but it ended up being unnecessary.

The man’s body convulsed violently for a moment before falling in a heap on the floor, revealing HG pointing a tesla in front of her.

“Sorry about that.” She stepped over him, to a stunned looking Steve, “Did you find it?”

“Huh?” he blinked at Helena’s quizzical expression, “Yeah, yeah, I got the box as soon as you brought Officer Duddly in here.” He glared at her now, “What happened to the plan?”

“They required amending,” she rolled her eyes, “Are you quite finished? I’d like to stay in this town strictly as long as is absolutely necessary.”

He donned the purple gloves and whipped out a static bag to be ready as HG sifted through the evidence box.

“Here we are,” she carefully lifted the antique scalpel from the box, turning to her waiting partner.

They both ducked as sparks flew.

“The replica?” HG asked after the reaction settled, “I don’t want this man to get off because a key piece of evidence turned up missing.” She grumbled.

“Right here,” Steve pulled out the replacement weapon as well as the amended report on it.

HG took both and began to file them away with the rest of the evidence, her hands stilled upon seeing a name jump out at her, her jaw dropped and the scalpel fell from her hand.

“HG?” Steve waved a hand in front of her face, “You alright in there?”

Her eyes flashed in what looked like fear and panic, without a word, she dropped the folder and ran out of the room, artifact and mission temporarily forgotten. Steve scrambled to follow her, how she managed to out run him in heels, he would never understand.

HG was a woman possessed, she found a directory, stopping only for a moment to let her eyes trail along the words before resuming her frantic sprinting. Steve groaned and picked up his own pace.

Down a few more halls, up a flight of stairs, and another corridor, Helena came to a stumbling stop at a holding room, chest heaving, not from exertion, but from fear.

Steve was still confused, worried for his partners sudden shift, but he didn’t stop her from pushing open the door.

“Look, like I told you I had nothing-,” the voice that came drifting from the room, male, exhaustion laden, came to a stumbling stop, “HG?”

Steve stepped forward, looking through the door. A man, clad in red, ill-fitting clothes stood with hands cuffed, held in front of him as he stood behind a table. His brown hair seemed to be darkened, clumped together in some areas, a bandage was wrapped around his arm, and he had a haunted look in his wide eyes.

“Wolly.” Helena breathed, rushing forward to gather the man in a crushing hug.

* * *

It was just past ten pm in Univille, and Myka had finally gotten Christina to fall asleep. Worry for her birthmother, guilt over the day’s activity, sensing the stress that was rolling off her American mother in waves, had turned her stomach to rot, and she didn’t want to close her eyes.

After four stories and ten minutes of quiet humming as she trailed her fingers through her adoptive daughter’s curls, Christina began to snore softly.

Myka quietly made her way down the stairs to the living room, most of the occupants of the B&B were still awake, sitting down stairs together for a while as they normally did before bed.

Pete and Claudia were playing some shooting game on the television laying on their stomachs, shoving each other playfully as they exchanged quite banter. Amanda had some case files spread out on the coffee table, sighing heavily every few moments as she moved a red pen over the pages. Joshua was scribbling madly away in a notebook, to Myka it looked as if he wasn’t even stopping to breathe until it was absolutely necessary. Abigale was studying a chessboard intently, finger tapping her chin as her head tilted this way and that, humming quietly to herself. Leena sat on the couch, feet tucked up underneath her, a large book in her lap keeping most of her attention.

Myka smiled at the sight, glad at how well they had settled into life here, their broken little family still running strong. She frowned though once she found her eyes searching for the missing piece, knowing she wouldn’t find it.

“Okay,” Myka announced her presence suddenly, wanting to distract herself from the longing thoughts, “I have held it in all day for the sake of the kid, but now I need to vent to people my own age so that I don’t snap.”

Leena marked her book with her finger, Abigale put down the piece she had only just grasped, Amanda capped the pen before sticking it behind her ear, Josh held up one finger, asking for a moment, while Pete swore at the game until Claudia pressed pause.

Myka took a breath now that she had most of their attention, “Christina’s teacher wanted to talk to one of her parents, so I went in but she said no she needed her _real_ parents, and when I told her I had custody of Christina, she got all bigoted and blamed Christina’s actions today in school on having two mothers and no father figure around to make her home life stable.”

She had their full attention now, and she could see as each of them slowly made sense of her rushed words.

“I’ll go make some coca,” Leena rose from the chair.

“I’d like something stronger,” Myka mumbled, but didn’t push for it as she began pacing back and forth.

“Okay, start from the beginning.” Pete shook his head as he rolled into a sitting position.

Without stopping her strides, Myka went on to tell them what Christina had gotten in trouble for, and how her meeting with the teacher went. The other agents slowly grew indignant with her, all overly protective where all things Christina were concerned, as well as Myka’s own anger rubbing off on them.

But they knew rallying her up further would do no one any good, so they all looked at one another for help calming her temper, now that it had been released once more.

“Okay,” Amanda spoke first, “I’ll see what I can look into for bringing civil charges against the teacher, maybe the school, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know…” Myka collapsed into the couch, rubbing her palms into her eyes, “Part of me wants to take that teacher down, and part of me wants to let it go. I mean, what did we really expect in a small town?”

Claudia was making a note of the teachers name in her phone when it buzzed with a message from Steve, “Well, this should cheer you up. Apparently HG and Steve already got the artifact and are working on heading back now. They should be at the airstrip at nine.”

“That was quick,” Pete looked at his partner, confusion spilling into his features.

It wasn’t as if he thought of him and Myka as a better team than Steve and HG, even his pride didn’t extend that far. But it was strange to have them be shipped out and pick up the artifact in less than an hour.

Claudia nodded, “I’ll see if I can get a few more details out of him.” She pulled a Farnsworth off the end table as she rose to her feet.

“See Mykes?” Pete shook his head and let a smile spread over his face instead, “Your lady will be home soon, and then she can go all crazy momma bear with you on that school. You know Amanda and Claudia will help, me and Steve can be the muscle… Hey, that can be this week’s family activity!”

“Thanks Pete.” Myka rolled her eyes, but fought a smile. She was glad to hear that Helena would be home soon

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JACK THE RIPPER’S SCALPEL!?” Claudia’s voice drifted into the living room from the kitchen.

Myka’s first instinct was to hush the girl, but then her words sunk in and she was on her feet and taking long strides to redhead.

“I didn’t do research on it, what if you- what if-,” the techie was starting to freak out a little, and Myka took the Farnsworth out of her hand the grainy image of Steve Jinks looked out at her, a worried expression cemented on his face.

“What happened?” Myka demanded.

“What? Nothing, nothing,” Steve was quick to assure her, but there was something off about his voice, and while Myka didn’t have his skills, she knew he was lying to her.

“Where’s HG?” Myka snapped.

“Calm down darling,” the image in her hands tilted until she could see Helena, “I’m right here. All is well, the scalpel has been snagged. It was at the police department in the evidence room. No danger involved.”

Myka took a breath, the knot in her chest loosening, “Why did no one tell us?”

“I didn’t want you to worry needlessly,” HG bit her lip, “How much trouble am I in?”

“Loads.” Myka sighed, “But, just hurry home please. Then I can be mad, and not just worried. That artifact is really dangerous. They’ve been looking for it since Warehouse 12…”

“It’s safe and sound in the static bag,” Helena assured her, before glancing up like someone called her, “I have to go now, but I will see you in the morning.”

“I love you.” Myka said quickly, exhaustion descending upon her quickly.

“I love you too.” Helena smiled before the screen went dark.

Myka handed Claudia the Farnsworth back before trudging back upstairs, ignoring the questions that followed her. She barely had the sense to set an alarm for herself before falling into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, real quick, all that talk about them not trusting HG as a result of the MacPherson incident, that is all HG’s personal thoughts and feelings and do not necessarily reflect the true thoughts and feelings of the other agents.


	4. One

Myka was going to wear a hole in the pavement if she kept pacing back and forth as she was in front of her car. She stopped only for a moment, just to look down at her watch to confirm that, yes, they were late.

They said they would be back at nine, and it was officially nine-oh-five. Late. They were late returning with a dangerous artifact. What if something happened to them before they got to the plane? What if something happened while they were on the plane? Why was Myka letting herself get so worked up about this?

She mind seemed to be having difficulty sticking to one emotion. She was angry Helena hadn't told her what artifact she was after. She was worried something had happened. She was anxious to have her back home where she could see that she was okay.

Myka was exhausted.

With a huff, she leaned against the hood of her car, closing her eyes and just taking in a breath. She had worked too hard for too long with Abigale to let her anxiety come take over her life once more. She wouldn't allow herself to revert back to how she had been in California.

The sound of the automatic doors opening drew Myka from her haze, eyes snapping up and immediately falling on Helena, and time seemed to slow momentarily. Her eyes traveled over her girlfriend carefully, looking for some indication of injury, breathing a sigh of relief when none was found. And when green eyes finally met brown, her legs were moving without her telling them to do so.

"Now darling, I know you're mad," HG began, dropping her bags and raising her hands in surrender, misinterpreting her girlfriend's face, "But there really is no reason to cause a scene-," she cut off with a huff when Myka's body collided with hers.

HG automatically wrapped her arms around Myka's slowly relaxing body, but Myka pulled back, just far enough that she could put a hand on either side of Helena's face, crushing their lips together to halt the questions forming there.

"Don't do that," Myka touched their foreheads together as they caught their breath, "You are not allowed to go off on dangerous mission without telling me."

HG lost herself for a moment, staring into summer green eyes, filled with love, sincerity and a touch of worry. She licked her lips, still tasting Myka's there, and nodded.

"Not to interrupt this very touching moment, but might I make a suggestion to continue it elsewhere? Preferably somewhere I can lie down before I fall over?"

Myka pulled away in shock at the unfamiliar British accent. She had been so focused on Helena that she hadn't even noticed Steve, or the other man standing beside him a few feet behind HG. She looked to her girlfriend who was rolling her eyes, also turning to face the boys.

"Um," Myka looked him up and down, trying to figure out just who he was, his current state of dress putting her on edge. He was in red police issued clothes, and the dark moons under his grey eyes put an edge to his look. Myka had to fight the urge to step in front of Helena to block his view of her, instead she just rose her eyebrow and looked to Helena.

"Right, Myka, I would like for you to meet my friend Wolly," she gave a slightly panicked smile as she waved to the other Brit, "Wolly, this is my girlfriend, Myka."

"Ah, the infamous Myka," he smiled just as realization was dawning on her face.

"Infamous?" Myka challenged.

"You're the one she was all twisted around last I saw her." His eyes, more clearly prone to smiles, hardened, "When she wouldn't eat or leave her bed."

Myka's heart twisted violently inside of her chest at the image he was giving her. She remembered how she looked the last time she returned from London, and she felt like she was going to be sick. Helena watched the color drain from her face, and her eyes drop to the floor.

"That's enough Wolly." HG snapped, "That was hardly Myka's fault, and I will not have you talk to her that way."

"Right, my apologies," Wolly straightened, "Must be the lack of sleep taking its toll on me, making me forget my manners."

"Then we should get you to the Warehouse, shouldn't we?" HG's expression didn't soften.

"The Warehouse?" Myka lifted her head in confusion, had HG told him about it? Why would she do that?

"The Regents are waiting for us." Steve nodded to her, sensing the anxiety levels rising in his former roommate, then turned to Helena and Wolly locked in some sort of glaring contest, "So we should really get a move on it."

"Righty ho then," Wolly flashed a smile, and HG grimaced, hearing the mocking tone, "Lead the way."

* * *

The ride to the Warehouse was tense, Myka white knuckling the steering wheel the entire way as HG continued to shoot wary glances at Wolly. William Wollcott, for his part, spent the time glaring out the window and muttering unintelligibly to himself from time to time. Steve was struggling to keep his eyes open, his body finding its limit at being awake for just over twenty four hours straight.

It was a relief to see the faded face of the old building, the three agents unconsciously began to let their muscles relax, while their tag along began to get jittery, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt, tapping his foot insistently on the floor, drumming his fingers on the edge of the window, biting is lip…

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve leaned towards him and whispered.

Wolly flashed him the fakest smile Steve had ever seen, "Right as rain."

Steve's brow furrowed at the blatant lie.

Something was clearly wrong with their guest, you didn't need Steve's human lie detector abilities to see that much. He was quite literally dragging his feet on the pathway to the door that seemed absurdly small in comparison to the entirety of the Warehouse's structure.

"Okay," Myka whispered to Helena as they made their way down the white, explosive lined hallway, "Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Steve and HG shared a look, while Wolly's eyes locked on his borrowed shoes. They were saved from answering when the door before them now slowly opened to reveal a stoic cartaker.

"That's a very good question, Agent Bering." They froze in the door way, Mrs. Fredric's voice pulling them up short as it had a tendency to do when the mysterious woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, "One I and the Regents would like to hear the answer to, if you all would join us."

It was then that Myka noticed Pete, Claudia, Joshua, Leena and Abigale looking around confusedly, eyes darting from the new comers to a door that was slightly ajar.

"Agents," Jane Lattimer called from behind the door, "If you all, as well as Mr. Wollcott, would join us?"

There were twenty or so adults sitting around a conference table that Myka didn't remember ever seeing in this room. Men, women, some dressed in suits or casually. One woman in a diner's uniform was very familiar to the Univille residents.

They were a very eclectic group, the only thing they seemed to have in common was a stern look as they carefully watched each Agent file in and stand awkwardly against the back wall.

Artie was twiddling his thumb, adjusting his glasses, trying not to make it obvious he was checking out his agents, trying to figure out just what this rather unorthodox meeting was about. The regents never really interacted directly with the agents, not even Artie. But now half of them, as many as they could get at such a short notice, sat in his Warehouse, waiting to interrogate them.

"William Wollcott." The owner of the diner spoke up, breaking the silence that resounded after the door shut with an air of finality behind the last of the Warehouse personnel.

Wolly's head shot up, glancing down the line of people he now stood in, looking for help, but only finding suspicious and confused glances. He swallowed his fear, plastering on his fake charming smile that got him out of more tight spots than he cared to count.

"Please, William, take a seat," Theodora waved for the single empty chair between Mrs. Fredric and Artie.

He shuffled forward, his shoes two sizes too big for him, making a show of getting comfortable, though it was clear for his lifelong friend that's all it was- a show. She could see the real fear and a hint of worry in his eyes.

No one spoke for what felt like an eternity. Theodora was flipping through a file, humming to herself as her eyes flit over each page, the rest of the Regents were studying not only Wolly, but the seven Agents who stood behind him. They did their best not to fidget under the scrutiny.

"Right," she nodded to herself, "William Gareth Wollcott. You became aware of the Warehouse at the age of six when your uncle, Vincent Crowley, chose you as his One."

"Yes." He nodded, voice quiet.

The Regent went on, "Are you aware of the role your Uncle played?"

"He was a Regent," Wolly answered, "He worked in London helping the Agents collect artifacts overseas."

"A position now held by Benedict Valda," Theodora gestured to the short man, studiously keeping his sharp gaze on the man being questioned, "Do you mind sharing why that is?"

"It's in your file, is it not?" Wolly challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We'd like to hear it from you." Her voice lost some of the warmth it held before, "If you don't mind, Mr. Wollcott."

"Of course," he gave a tight lipped smile, "My uncle was under the impression that the artifacts should be used in order to gain more power in the host country. He wanted to move the Warehouse back to London and keep it there, strengthening its empire. When I was twelve, he… borrowed an artifact-,"

"Joshua's Trumpet," Valda supplied, speaking for the first time, "Does this sound familiar to anyone in the room?"

The agents of Warehouse 13 all tensed. The story echoed closely to that of James MacPherson, a man bent on using artifacts to gain power and wealth. A man who was partner to Arthur Nielson, head agent of Warehouse thirteen, enemy of the college kids who grew up to be agents, and self-confessed murderer.

Killed at the hand of Helena Wells three years prior.

"James MacPherson and Vincent Crowley were close friends, and shared many of the same views." Theodora went on when it was clear they had made the connection in their heads, "Please, Mr. Wollcott, continue."

"He wanted to use the artifact to take out the agent in charge, as well as the caretaker of Warehouse 13," Artie and Irene stiffened slightly, hearing the plot of their own murder, "I begged him not to… but he wouldn't listen. I- I called the number he left me in case of emergency. I told the man who answered my call all my uncle had planned. I never saw Vincent again. Valda checks in on me from time to time, though I assume you have all been keeping a closer eye on me than that."

"You would be correct, Mr. Wollcott," Theodora nodded, "We can't very well have someone running around with all our secrets. You understand."

Wolly gave a sharp nod, "I always expected you would come in and sweep me up and take me away. I just didn't think you'd send my best friend to do your dirty work."

HG's jaw dropped, "They didn't send me to  _collect you_ , Wolly. I was after Jack the Ripper's scalpel." The words were past her lips before she could stop them, "I called them when I found you, your file said you were involved with the murders! What was I supposed to do? Let you rot for a crime that was artifact induced?"

"I didn't kill those women, HG." Wolly spun in his chair, meeting her frantic gaze with a pleading one.

"Then tell us what happened." Valda snapped, regaining attention.

"I was following the murders, the whole country was," Wolly explained, dropping his gaze to his fingers, "I had this… friend. He and I would meet at a local coffee shop every week and talk over tea. Since the murders began, he seemed to become obsessed with them. And something… changed in him. He always looked sick and a bit crazed… I was worried, I followed him one day. I watched… I saw…" his voice grew shaky, "I tried to stop him, but he was beyond reason. When he attacked  _me_  with that damned scalpel, I just reacted the way HG taught me. I'm not as talented as she, but it worked to disarm him none the less. I called the police, and they brought me in, saying I was a witness, but in reality, they thought I had been helping him."

"You used your one phone call to contact Regent Valda, is that correct?" a man asked, his tone sounding bored, his eyes anything but as they remained on the lad, "Why is that?"

"As soon as the scalpel left his hand, I could see  _some_ reason return to my friend's eyes. He seemed confused. But it wasn't enough to stop him, I knew then it was no ordinary scalpel. Memories of tales told to me by my uncle returned."

"And Agent Wells found you on her retrieval and contacted us, and we instructed her to bring you to the Warehouse." The man waved his hand, impatience leaking into his tone, "Now that we are all caught up, what shall we do with him."

"I have an idea," Regent Lattimer spoke up, "It's why I insisted the agents be present. I agree that we can't have a man with knowledge about the artifacts roaming around causing trouble, especially when he's wanted for murder in another country. So we must keep him close, keep him hidden until we can smooth things over in the Ripper Redux case."

"What do you suggest, Jane?" Irene focused on her friend, though they were hardly friends at the moment. No, for now, they had to follow the rules. They were caretaker and Regent.

"I'm suggesting that William stay at the Warehouse indefinitely. Under the watch of the agents here." She looked carefully at those surrounding her, trying to gauge reactions, "It isn't safe for Mr. Wollcott without the threat of Interpol weighing on him. Think if the others involved with MacPherson and Crowley's plans got their hands on him. He knows too much. This way, at least, we can protect him as well as ourselves."

There was a quiet moment of consideration, "All those in favor of Regent Lattimer's suggestion?" Theodora called, lifting her hand.

"Aye," sixteen Regents rose their hands in response.

"Well then," She nodded, closing the file in front of her, "It's been decided, until further notice, William Wollcott, you are hereby placed in the custody of the Warehouse Agents. At least until we can find a permanent solution for you." She went to her feet, followed by the other Regents, "This meeting is ajurned."

The Regents filed out of the room until only the Agents remained with Wolly.

"Great." Artie grumbled, "This is just fantastic! Another to look after. What am I going to do with you? I can't babysit you twenty four seven…"

The agents, no longer under the burning tares of their superiors, fell into the now empty chairs."

"I'll set him up a room at the B&B," Leena nodded.

She had finally saved up enough, after selling the coffee shop, to buy her dream- a bed and breakfast. Though it was only used by the Agents of Warehouse 13, she marked it as a small victory in her life. She enjoyed helping them, caring for them. While Irene Fredric was the Warehouse's caretaker, Leena was the  _agents'_  caretaker. She also assisted in the warehouse when needed, mostly working with the artifacts to keep them happy where ever they were.

"And I think it's best if he speaks with me," Abigale added, "With his trauma in seeing his friend kill someone as well as his uncle's influences. Twice a week,  _at least_."

The retired therapist thought she had hung up her ink blots for good, but the agents had a lot of personal issues to work through. They all sat with her at least once a week, discussing cases and their pasts alike. It was the best system of mentally caring for the Warehouse personnel that had ever been seen.

"Very well," Irene nodded.

"And what am I to do with the rest of my time?" Wolly blanched, put off that they were speaking of him, deciding his fate, without consulting him.

The agents all looked to one another, but it was Pete who spoke up with the suggestion, "Inventory?"

No one liked the tedious task of walking up and down the aisles of the vast Warehouse, cataloging the conditions of ever artifact collected, trading off with one another in exchange for favors.

"We can't just let an outsider mill around the artifacts," Artie shook his head and the agents deflated.

"I think that's a great idea, Arthur." Mrs. Fredric argued, getting a feeling from the Warehouse that it  _liked_ Wolly, and appreciated the idea of him walking it's grounds.

The senior agent's mouth opened and closed without any words coming out, just a strangled sputtering noise.

"With supervision, of course." She lifted a hand, trying to calm the man before he had an aneurysm.

Artie still wasn't convinced it was a good idea, but it was impossible to argue with the caretaker, "Fine. He can only go through the Warehouse with one of us with him  _at all times_."

Knowing this man was connected with his former partner as well as the Regent turned villain made him nervous and suspicious. How much had they imprinted on him? He was so young, who's to say he hadn't adopted their twisted views on a new world order?

Wolly let out a huge yawn, and it echoed around the table with Steve and HG, their exhaustion settling in on them now that the anxiety of meeting with the Regents had passed.

"Perhaps I should take him to his new home?" Leena gave him a concerned once over, not liking the state of his aura.

"Yes, yes, go." He nodded, "As for the rest of you, Steve and HG, you go back to the B&B as well, you're no of no use to me if you're dead on your feet. Claudia and Joshua, I need you two to run a complete system scan and security reboot. And you two," he pointed to Myka and Pete, "Inventory. Start in section B76."

They groaned but rose to their feet.

Leena lead Wolly out of the room while Abigale gave Steve a hand. Pete skipped out of the room, wanting to grab snacks before he went down to explore the dust covered stacks. Artie grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before disappearing into his office. Myka watched as Joshua and Claudia began talking heatedly abou some computer stuff she couldn't quite understand as they too walked off, leaving only HG and Myka at the table.

The Brit shifted in her chair nervously, "Am I in trouble?"

Myka tilted her head at her girlfriend, confused for a moment before it came back to her that she was supposed to be angry with her. But her heart wasn't in it anymore, so she just shook her head and gave a tired sigh.

"No, babe," Myka assured her, "I just… I just don't like it when you hide something from me. I don't' care if you're doing it  _for my own good_. I just want you to be honest with me."

Guilt washed through HG, but she kept her face straight, "I'm sorry, my love. I truly didn't want to worry you."

"It's okay," Myka stood up, walking to Helena, bending at the waist to kiss her softly, "From now on though, no secrets."

"No secrets," Helena agreed befor stealing another kiss, her fingers crossed behind her back.


	5. Justifiable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of updates, I have had pneumonia and it was totally kicking my ass. 
> 
> PS fifth season never happened.

Helena's biggest discovery in the first year of working at the Warehouse was not the sheer insanity of the seeming magical objects. It thrilled her to no end trying to figure out what made Artifacts tick, actually. A hobby that had gotten HG and Claudia in trouble with Artie more than once.

Besides, after one visit to the burn unit, one temporary case of electrical shock induced amnesia and more than a few accidental whammies that were easily dealt with, Claudia and HG and perfected the safety of handling artifacts- if only to continue doing so without Artie's knowledge.

No, the day Helena made her biggest discover thus far, had begun like any other.

Myka and Pete were off in Chicago, on the trail of some fire related artifact, leaving Steve and HG to do inventory while Claudia was busy crushing her brother's ego under the heel of her boot as she reworked the whole Warehouse inventory system.

Steve had gotten sick with in the first hour of their assigned duty, and HG begrudgingly allowed him to return to the office to lie down until the nausea passed. If Steve wasn't such a terrible liar, she would have thought he was just trying to get out of it.

It wasn't as if she could complain, it was her fault they had been stuck doing inventory on what was technically their one day off. But she had taken a few… liberties when on their last mission that Arthur had been none too thrilled with.

One of the hundreds of rules that came with being an agent stated that warehouse personnel were not allowed to walk the aisles alone, for safety reasons.

HG Well had never been much one for rules anyway. So rather than go find a replacement for her partner, she continued down the Aisle filled with children's toys. It was quite creepy, perhaps that's why Jinks fell ill suddenly.

But Helena pushed the faint sound of children's laughter from her mind as she quickly took notes on the different objects. She hated inventory, it was drab and boring and monotonous, but she despised paper work even more, and that was often the tradeoff between her and Steve.

She was staring intently at a one eyed, rather ratty teddy bear, trying to grasp how something so innocent looking could have caused such mayhem, when her nose twitched and she looked up.

It was light, familiar, faint.

"Apples?" HG put the bear down, turning to follow the scent to its source.

She walked for twenty minutes, turning down one aisle after the next, not recognizing where she was at all, but too intrigued to stop to think about what she was doing. Not until the scent briefly intensified, before disappearing all together.

She stumbled to an abrupt halt then, realizing she had wondered further into the warehouse than she ever had before, and had arrived at a darkened aisle, the lights high above seemed to have burned out.

Helena frowned, pulling a small LED flash light from her back pocket, shining it down the seemingly endless row. There were odd shapes in the aisle, on the shelves, but everything was covered in yellowing sheets coated thickly with dust.

A voice in her head sounding strangely like Myka told her to turn around and go back to the office, back to inventory, back to Steve-  _anywhere_ , really, that wasn't here, exploring an aisle whose darkness seemed to swallow sound.

A chill went down her spine, "Right then," she turned on her heel to retreat when a gust of wind rippled past, causing her hair to billow around her face, her jacket to flap behind her, and the closest sheet to slide off its concealed object.

Heart pounding in her ears, Helena let the phantom wind fade as she let the light of her torch dance over the floor until it rested on the crate.

Dark, stained and warped, the wood of the old shipping crate showed that it had been a long time since anyone had seen it. It was the red, stenciled letters that caught her eye.

WAREHOUSE 12: H.G. WELLS SECTION.

Her feet were moving before she could help herself, and was suddenly standing beside the wooden box that came up to her chest, brushing her fingers lightly over the little type on the molding paper stapled to the box.

_The Imperceptor Vest; art# 42394677 dwg# 423-40003-HGW; H.G. Wells schematic #4677_

_Attributes:_

_Wearer can move fast enough to become imperceptible to the naked eye._

_Requirements:_

_Requires compact energy source capable of providing 6 terajoules of energy._

_*Development halted due to insufficient power source._

Helena pried her fingers between the planks of wood. But, despite the damage and wear, her nails were soon bleeding and she couldn't get it to budge a bit. She was going to need a crow bar, and intended to run back for one the moment she realized. She paused, however when a thought suddenly struck her.

She pulled the next closest sheet down, discovering another crate, this one claiming to hold a year's worth of schematics and journals for H.G. Wells. The next holding much the same. That's when it hit her.

Her great-great grandfather had invented these things, these were his journals, this was an entire aisle devoted to him. And the temptation to go through the boxes, to discover their contents and learn about her namesake, was too great to pass up.

Journals were devoured and heavily tagged with post-its to places Helena wanted to make note of for later. If a spare moment could be found, Helena spent it in the H.G. Wells aisle, after having cleaned it up and half turning it into a work shop. She learned that he was so much more than a writer. He was an inventor, like her. And his inventions were so beyond his time, that the sheer impossibility of some of them caused their development to halt.

But now,  _now_ , his decedent had the resources to complete some of his life's work.

Perhaps the thing that struck her the most, was learning of his status in Warehouse 12 as an agent. How had she not known about that before? How had she not stumbled upon his name when she locked through records, over the map of the warehouse, in the computers?

It made her want to learn more and more about him.

She wanted to show Myka the second she found it, she was perhaps the biggest fan of H.G. Wells that Helena had ever met. But she had gotten side tracked that first day. And when left alone with her thoughts for so long, she convinced herself that it would be best not to involve her girlfriend in her explorations.

Myka was a model agent, all knowledgeable when it came to the manual, and a stickler for the rules that most of their team had trouble adhering to. The last thing she wanted to do was put Myka in the position where she had to make a choice between Helena and the Warehouse. She would have to lie or turn in her girlfriend, and HG was scared to admit she didn't know which Myka would pick.

She would tell her, eventually. Helena just wanted time to go through the dozens of boxes. Because more important than the man's incredible journals, were the inventions stored away. Boxed and shelved, they were incredible. And Helena was itching to finish them, to improve upon them, to test them out as soon as possible.

What she felt guilty about, perhaps more than not telling the most important woman in her life about her discoveries, was who she  _did_ chose to involve.

She hadn't told Claudia explicitly what it was she was doing, but she sought out her help regardless, albeit a bit cryptically. The redhead's current job being to research a proper power source that could  _reach_ six terajoules. Pointing her in the direction of the lab at CERN, and their research into antimatter.

So, as it was now Helena's turn to show Wolly down a few aisles of the Warehouse floor, she purposely avoided going anywhere  _near_ the H.G. Wells aisle.

"So," Wolly broke the silence that followed Helena's explanation of the purple gloves she was forcing him to keep on, since his hands tended to wander, much like Pete's, "You and Myka."

"Yes?" Helena looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "What about us?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, "It's just, the last time I saw you, she had broken your heart. It isn't as if you called or wrote to me, so it came as quite the shock to see that you are now, what, playing house with her?"

_Wolly had been reintroduced to Christina when she returned home from school. The girl had recognized him straight away and ran into his arms._

" _Wolly," she cheered, curls bouncing around wildly, much longer than he remembered them being as her mothers couldn't bear to cut them just yet._

" _Hello, champ," Wolly smiled at his goddaughter, "I'm looking for a little girl named Christina, pretty little thing, have you seen her?"_

" _Wolly," Christina rolled her eyes adorably, looking so much like her mother, "It's me."_

" _What? No!" he shook his head, "You're much too big to be my Christina."_

" _You're silly." She chuckled._

" _Christina?" Helena's voice reached them moments before she did, rounding the corner. The sound of her daughter's voice had roused her from a restless sleep._

" _Mum!" she smiled, wiggling out of Wolly's arms to run to her mother's._

_Myka was standing against the arch way, watching mother and daughter hug and kiss and chuckle. They and only been apart a day, but it always felt much longer for them. So Myka was quiet for a moment before clearing her throat, "Christina."_

_Mother and daughter glanced up, though it was clear only one of them knew what to expect. Christina was set back to the floor carefully._

" _Isn't there something you need to tell your mother about what happened at school yesterday?" she rose an expecting eyebrow as she nodded for the little girl to do as she was told._

_Christina's face fell as she turned back to her mother, feet shuffling slightly, "I got in trouble for shooting another student with my rubber band launcher."_

_Helena's eyes widened as she looked from her daughter to her girlfriend and back. It was the same look of shock Myka was sure she had had when Christina's teacher told her, "Christina, what have I told you about using violence?" she knelt beside her so they were at the same eye level._

" _Only to use it when protecting myself or someone else." Christina recited with the air of someone who'd had the rule repeated to her several times, "But I was defending someone."_

" _Who?" HG pushed._

" _You and Mom." The seven year old grimaced, "He was saying some rude things I'd rather not repeat. I just got so angry, I wanted him to stop and he wouldn't. So I shot him…" she trailed off, her face flushing slightly._

_Helena sighed, clearly torn, "Thank you dear, for defending us. But perhaps I should have said you should only use force when it's being used on you. If the boy was saying something that you didn't like, you should have told a teacher or a safety assistant." She referred to the four adults in charge of watching the playground and cafeteria with less of a patronizing tone than usual._

" _I tried!" Christina insisted, "They told me that there wasn't anything they could do. I'm sorry, Mum, I just wanted him to stop."_

" _It's quite alright, dear," HG assured her, "I take it your teacher spoke to Myka, then?" Christina nodded, "How about you go upstairs and do your homework while I speak to your mom."_

_The little girl nodded once more before bounding off towards the stair well._

_The two women seemed to forget Wolly's presence as they greeted each other briefly, allowing him to step back and observe their interaction._

" _You spoke to Mrs. Thornton?" Helena began._

" _Yes, and I am glad to say that_  that woman  _will no longer be teaching Christina." Myka's teeth ground slightly as her face flushed, "She had the audacity to claim that Christina's acting out on the playground was because of me, of our relationship."_

" _I really wish I had been there," Helena spoke almost wistfully, though it was impossible to miss the spark of rage in her eyes, "Were you terribly frightening?"_

" _I may have yelled a bit," Myka admitted, "And also called her a bitch before threatening to sue the school…" she rubbed the back of her neck._

_HG chuckled, "And they folded beneath you just like that, did they?"_

" _They've moved her to Mr. Hutson's class for now." Myka nodded, "But I doubt she'll get more than a slap on the wrist for how she treated me."_

" _Perhaps if I talk to her…" Helena's voice dropped to a dangerous tone._

" _I wish I could agree with you," Myka sighed, "But let's wait at least until we see what the principal does shall we?"_

" _If you insist, love." Helena agreed, "But if you change your mind, there is a new tesla I know Claudia is dying to try out on a human subject, and I'm afraid Steve is wary after last time…"_

It was a weird parental dynamic to be sure, one Wolly wasn't used to seeing. Especially when it came to his life-long friend.

"Not that I'm not thrilled he's gone," he went on, "But what happened to Nate?"

"He's remarried," HG said in an off hand sort of way that sounded false in Wolly's ears, "Emily is a lovely girl, and she and Nate have a daughter in California. He calls Christina once a week, and she sees him from time to time…" she ended with a shrug.

Wolly wished he understood what the issue there was, but knew HG wouldn't want to tell him, too much bad blood between them for him to be just prying into her life as he used to.

"So, you and Myka…" he pretended to be interested in the grime caked shelves they were walking by, "Are you two planning to marry then?" he was still trying to understand their relationship. They didn't act like they were simply dating, it seemed so much more than that. He wanted to know what he had missed after he saw her last.

"Really, William," Helena turned on him, coming to an abrupt halt to focus her energies on a warning glare, "I don't think this is an appropriate time for this conversation."

"I'm just saying," he held his hands up in mock surrender, "They seem pretty close, Myka and Christina. I'm only worried for my goddaughter, what should happen if you break up?"

HG shifted uncomfortably, at the question, her gaze suddenly wandering everywhere else, "They would still be in each other's lives, even if that were to happen, which I doubt it will. Myka has parental rights over Christina."

Wolly blanched at this information. Sure, he'd heard the girl refer to Myka as Mom, but to have legal right over the girl was so much more than a simple title, "So you'd be back in the same mess as you were before with Nate! Suing for custody of your own daughter…"

"Myka is nothing like Nate!" HG snapped suddenly, leveling a lethal glare at him, "She is a wonderful mother to Christina, she has been from the moment they met. I would  _never_  try to keep them apart, Myka loves Christina."

"Still, what were you thinking, Hel?" Wolly insisted, "Giving her rights to your daughter when you're not even married?"

"I did it  _for_ Christina." Helena crossed her arms over her chest, face paling slightly, "The first year we moved to South Dakota, Christina had gotten severely sick while I was on a mission. I… I got stuck in Russia. I had spotty reception at best and… Myka, she couldn't get a hold of me. She took Christina to the hospital when her fever worsened. They let Myka admit her, but refused to tell her anything about her progress or what they needed to do. And I wanted to be sure that never happened again."

"Wow," Wolly nodded, "Alright, I accept that then. But that still begs the question, you two have been together for nearly, what, four years? Do you two  _plan_ on marrying?"

Helena's face flushed once more as she began to walk down the aisle at a faster clip than before, "I hardly think this is an appropriate time for this conversation."

Wolly had to struggle to keep up with her, especially when it seemed like Helena was  _trying_ to put distance between them.

He gave up when a blue spark caught his eye.

A giant tesla coil stretched into the air, and it sparked slightly from time to time, the previous agent to use it for target practice forgetting to turn it off.

Wolly was dumb struck, reaching out only to pull back quickly when feeling the electricity roll through his fingertips.

With his fingers in his mouth to sooth the sting, Wolly wandered a bit further. That's when he saw it, larger than life, pointing for the heavens. He recognized it immediately. It had a steam punk quality to it that almost made it look like a movie prop, but in this place, with what he knew, Wolly would bet this was the real thing. Though it had a few side panels missing, and there were wires falling out of it with frayed ends.

He strode forward, reaching his hand out, forgetting all about his minor injuries as he touched the side of Tesla's invention, the metal feeling strangely warm beneath his fingertips. A chill went down his spine as he smiled up.

"Tesla, you mad genius." He chuckled.

"Wolly!" he heard Helena's voice shout out to him.

It pulled him from his daydreams as he reluctantly withdrew from the machine, making a mental promise to return to it later.

"C-coming, Hel," he assured, backing away, refusing to take his eyes from the massive machine until he had no choice.

Yes, he would definitely be revisiting this aisle.


	6. It Catches Up

Wolly wore a wicked smile that had Helena weary before she even asked him what he wanted.

He had been living with the Warehouse family for a month now, and in that month, he had gained the trust and friendship of all the other agents, and even Artie had stopped looking at him from the corner of his eye. No longer under the suspicion of his housemates, they left him to do inventory by himself most days. That’s how he learned her secret.

Helena had never been scatterbrained or forgetful or unaware of her surroundings, so it came as a pleasant shock when he was able to follow her down several aisles while she juggled notebooks and a tool belt with what looked like a sack lunch held between her teeth.

She appeared frazzled, her hair thrown up in a half hazard bun, half of her shirt untucked and the laces of the boots on her feet- which Wolly were pretty sure did not belong to her- were untied.

That’s when he discovered the aisle turned workshop HG had made a home of.

“So that’s where you’ve been disappearing off to.” He smiled a dark, cloying feeling brushing aside his mind, caressing his heart. And he began to plan.

Now, weeks later, he was done with waiting, “Hello, Helena.”

“What do you want?” She asked, taking a step back from him, she was standing in the garden of the B&B, finding the garden Leena had cultivated from the dead ground peaceful. And as of late, her life was lacking a bit of peace- with her final papers due to apply for her doctorate, artifact hunting, caring for Christina- hell, she had barely had time to spend with her girlfriend in weeks.

“Oh nothing, just wanted to go for a walk, and I was wondering if you would like to go with me?” He smiled cheekily at her.

Her eyes narrowed, “I have known you far too long not to notice when you’re up to something. And normally I would entertain you simply because it often leads to a great story to have over drinks, but today I have no time.”

“That’s not fair, Hel,” he stuck his lower lip out, “I thought we were mates, but I understand, I just wanted to spend some time with you, but if you haven’ got the time…”

“Your guilt trip will not work on me, Wolly,” HG sighed, crossing her arms and smirking at him, “Having a daughter and a girlfriend who have mastered the puppy dog face has made me immune to yours.”

“Fine, Hel,” he quirked an eyebrow, “I thought you would like to take a walk down the H.G. Wells aisle with me, but since you are so busy, perhaps I should ask Myka, she’s a huge fan of his, isn’t she?”

He turned on his heel to walk away, and a hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him roughly around, “Wait just a moment, you- you  _know_?”

“About your little secret project you’ve got going on?” he smiled at her, “I may have stumbled upon it while doing inventory. Honestly, HG I’m hurt you didn’t tell me about it.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” HG explained, “And I would ask you nicely to not tell anyone either.”

“You haven’t told her either have you?” he widened his eyes to mimic shock, “Helena, I thought you and she told each other everything?” she grimaced and looked away, “Anyway, your secret is safe with me-,”

“Thank you-,”

“So long as you take me down there tonight and show me what you’re working on.” He finished with a challenging smirk.

“No, absolutely not,” she shook her head, “I’m to go out with Christina and Myka tonight-,”

“In that case, maybe Artie would be interested in seeing what you have down there.” His eyes hardened, and HG pulled back from him, for a moment, he wasn’t Wolly, he was some angry stranger that Helena didn’t recognize. And she knew then that Wolly wouldn’t hesitate in making good on his threats.

HG opened her mouth, but was interrupted as the sliding glass door opened and Myka stepped out into the sun, squinting and shading her eyes, but smiling lovingly at her, “Hey,” she greeted.

“Darling,” HG’s voice came out slightly higher pitched due to panic, she cleared her throat and tried to put a reign on it, “Hello.”

“Hi,” she walked so she was standing beside Wolly, facing HG, tilting her head slightly in confusion, “Aren’t you going to get ready?”

“Ready for what dear?” HG furrowed her brow, “Whatever for? Wolly and I were just getting ready to head out-,”

“Head out?” Myka balked, “Where- No, we’re supposed to take Christina to Pizza Planet, that’s what she wanted for getting straight As. We’ve been planning this all week, Hel.”

“Right, yes,” HG nodded, looking to Wolly, who just held her stare and shook his head, “However, Wolly has asked for a night for just the two of us, time to catch up on all we’ve missed in one another’s lives.”

“Helena,” Myka’s voice dropped to a dangerous level, “We are supposed to have a family night. I had to  _beg_  Steve and trade him two weekends of inventory to go with Pete on the case that just came up.”

HG’s heart was breaking as she watched the anger and pleading swirling in green eyes, but Wolly is now tapping his watch and looking pointedly at her.

“Myka, I’m sorry, but I forgot-,” she tried.

“You  _forgot?_ ” Myka stepped into her space.

“Yes,” HG nodded, “And I promised Wolly that I would spend time with him-,”

“You promised your  _daughter_  you would spend time with  _her.”_ Myka’s voice rose to a shout, “You’ve been running off and we haven’t had a moment in  _weeks_  as a family.”

“I’ll just be, over here.” Wolly slowly backed away, retreating into the living room, but not before being sure HG understood she needed to give him what he wanted.

“Myka,  _please_ ,” Helena stopped when her tone grew a smidge too desperate, forcing a small smile and placing a placating hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, “You know Pete forces us to go to Pizza Planet at least once a month, we can go again. I haven’t  _really_  spoken to Wolly in years, and he needs me now.” She took a breath, “After all he’s gone through… He reminds me of you, after MacPherson, only he doesn’t have anyone to help him.”

It was a low blow, and Helena was now absolutely positive she was going to hell. Pain flashed in Myka’s eyes, and she pulled back slightly, wrapping her arms around her waist. The PTSD she lived with wouldn’t ever go away, not really. That was one of the perks of the artifacts that was used to save her. They never neutralized it, fearing that it would reverse the healing of her bullet wound. With Abigale’s help she could live almost normally with fewer flashbacks and nightmares. But being reminded of her weakness wasn’t a good feeling, and having it used against her-  _that_  was painful beyond all else.

HG wanted nothing more in that moment to take it back, but Myka was already nodding in defeat, “Okay. I’ll take Christina and one of her friends tonight. We’ll… we’ll have family night another time.” Her smile was tinged with sadness.

Both of them knew that the chances of each of them having another free weekend together was next to impossible.

_Damn you, William Wollcott._

“I love you.” Helena spoke earnestly, hoping these words would carry all the weight she felt behind them.

Myka just nodded, turning on her heel and going back into the house, brushing past Wolly without sparing him so much as a glance. And Myka swore to herself that she would make this, and so much more, up to Myka. Or else die trying.

Wolly smiled wide at her, “So, did you ditch the ball and chain then?”

Helena slapped him across the face before she could control herself, grabbing his face and bringing it close to hers, lowering her voice to a dangerous whisper, “If you  _ever_  force me to pick  _anything_ over my family again, I will end you. Our friendship be dammed, William.”

“Alright, alright,” He yanked himself free of his grasp, “You’d think you really didn’t want to spend time with me.” His smile was still stubbornly cheery.

“Spend time with you in the Warehouse over my own daughter?”  _not to mention Myka,_ “But of course, Wolly!”

“Now, now, let’s not get snippy,” he rolled his eyes, “Come on, I want to see what you’re working on!”

* * *

“But why isn’t Mummy going with us?” Christina asked in a small voice as Myka knelt to explain to her the change of the night’s plan, “She said she was going to.”

 

“I know, kiddo,” Myka sighed, “But something with Wolly came up, Mummy has to help him because he’s sad like I used to be, remember? And your mom is the best cheerer-upper.”

“Alright,” but from the tone of her voice, it was clearly not alright, and Christina trained her eyes on the ground.

“Hey,” she put her finger under the girls chin, tilting it up so she could look into her eyes, “Your Mummy loves you very much, and I know that if there was any way for her to be there tonight with us, she would be. And, guess what? Your Aunt Claudia just begged me to let her come with us, and I think it’s okay if you want to invite one of your friends to come with us tonight, would you like that?”

“I guess,” she shrugged, “I think Danni would like to come with me, she seemed excited when I spoke about it.”

It was the best she was going to get out of her for now, Myka knew, so she sighed, “Alright I’ll go call Danni’s dad and you go finish getting ready. Go on,” she gave a smile as she turned the girl around and gave her a little push.

Myka sighed, walking to the kitchen and pulling the land line off the wall, punching in the familiar number for Christina’s best friend’s house.

“ _Hello?”_

“Hey, Dex, it’s Myka Bering, Christina’s mom?” she watched from the window, HG and Wolly get into the car and pull away. She hadn’t even told them goodbye…

“ _I know who you are, Mykes_ ,” Danni’s dad spoke with a chuckle, dragging Myka back to the present, “ _I heard what happened at the school with Chrissy. And, on the behalf of the rest of the third grade parents, let me thank you for punching Mrs. Thornton in the face and kicking her right in the_ -,”

“Dex! That’s not what happened!” Myka interrupted with a half shout half laugh.

“ _Hey, it’s okay, I get it, you want plausible deniability, can’t go around admitting to assault. Don’t’ worry, I’ve got your back_.” Myka could hear the smile in his voice, pulling one out of her as well.

Dexter West was a single father, a couple years older than Myka herself, and was one of her few friends outside of the Warehouse. He was the first parent out of Christina’s class to accept that she had two mothers, he hadn’t bat an eye when they were introduced the first year.

_‘Hello, I’m Helena, this is my daughter Christina and my girlfriend Myka.’ HG had always been a social butterfly, and thus far was having fun with people’s reactions of shock and embarrassment when they asked of her husband or questioned her young age. She had long since grown used to people starting at her sexuality and teenaged pregnancy, but Myka couldn’t seem to stop blushing_

_‘Dexter, but you can call me Dex,’ he smiled brightly, ‘And this is Danni,’_

_When the girls ran off to the playground together, playing a game that they made up as they went along, Dex leaned in to speak quietly with a smile, ‘Look, so far you are the only two here that haven’t looked at me sideways, so I hope you don’t mind me sort of attaching myself to you and you should expect phone calls for as long as our daughters are friends with me asking for help because I have no idea what I’m doing. As long as Christina doesn’t mind sharing her mothers, of course.’_

 Myka laughed then, liking him instantly at his forwardness and the similarities she found between him and Helena. And they  _had_  received several calls over the years, Dex always panicking over something or other. And Myka thought it was adorable that he wanted to raise his daughter by himself and yet was able to ask her for help. Danni’s mom had left after she was born, and hadn’t been in the girl’s life since. Apparently, upon Myka and HG arriving, he had been relieved of his social pariah status as the parents found something else to gossip about then how sad it was the girl had no mother.

She liked talking to him, he kept her grounded, allowed her to believe for a few moments that the world wasn’t all unexplainable madness. She was glad that Christina had picked his little girl to be her best friend.

“ _So what can I do for you? Need free baby-sitting for date night? Because I’m thinking my kitchen is still feeling the pain from last time.”_

Myka laughed, “No, no, I was actually calling to ask if it was alright for me to pick up Danni and take her with us to Pizza Planet as an end of the school year celebration.”

“ _Oh, yeah, sure!”_ he perked up, “ _In that case could you keep her for the night? I just had to turn my best friend down for guys night- but if you don’t mind.”_

“Of course! Danni is always welcome to stay over.”

“ _Thanks Myka, I swear I owe you one. I’ll do the next outing with them.”_

“Sounds good,” Myka nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see her, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

* * *

As soon as they picked up Danni, Christina’s mood brightened, and they girls began speaking in some sort of nonsense language they had made up.

 

“Thanks again, Myka,” Dex smiled down at her, cheeks dimpling as he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “I wanted to go out with the guys tonight, but I didn’t want to just leave Danni somewhere because of it.” He looked over her shoulder at the car waiting on the side of the road, “Where’s Helena?”

Myka sighed heavily, “She went out with her best friend, so it’s just me and Christina tonight. Oh, and her Aunt Claudia.”

Dex gave a small smile to the waiting redhead in the passenger seat, and Claudia responded with a tight smile, “Anyway,” he laughed as the girls rushed to the car, “Thanks,  _seriously_.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” Myka smiled, “Who else can you pawn your kids off on?” they shared a laugh before hugging goodbyes with promises of dropping off Danni the following afternoon.

The girls talked excitedly in the back seats while Claudia seemed content to spend the forty minute drive to the pizza arcade in stoic silence, glaring out the passenger window. Myka couldn’t understand why, she had seemed so excited as they drove to get Danni. But, she figured, she would tell Myka what was bothering her as soon as they were alone.

She was right, as they gave the girls their first batch of gaming tokens-gotten under questionable means by Claudia and a small device she pulled from her pocket- and found a booth to sit at Claudia finally turned her narrowed gaze on her.

“So, what’s up with this Dex guy?” she said without preamble.

“Danni’s father? What do you mean?” Myka shook her head.

“Oh come on, Myka, you guys seem close-,”

“Claudia! If you haven’t noticed, I’m dating someone, a woman someone, who is the mother of my daughter.” She gestured vaguely in the direction the girls had skipped off to.

“I know that,” Claudia collapsed back into her seat, “It’s just, you guys have been acting so weirdly around each other lately. You get all dodgey and nervous and she spends more and more time in the Warehouse or working on her thesis…”

“Look, I know things have been a little hard for HG and I for the last couple months, but I promise you, I have no intentions of breaking up with her, in fact,” Myka signed, pulling from her jeans pocket a glittering ring, holding it in her palm for Claudia to see.

“Gasp!” she smiled, “Is that what I think it is?”

“It was my grandmothers,” Myka sighed, “I was planning on proposing to her. Tonight actually. Had it all planned out- family night, romantic walk after Christia was in bed… but something came up I guess. It seems like something always comes up…”

“How long have you been carrying this around?” Claudia quircked en eyebrow,

“Since thanksgiving-,”

“Well that’s not too-,”

“At my parents-,”

“When did you-,”

“Edgar Allen Poe’s pen?” Myka prompted.

“Myka that was  _years_  ago!” Claudia blanched.

“Yeah I am very much aware,” Myka rolled her eyes, “There just never seems to be a right time, especially lately… she’s just been acting so weird and distant with me lately. Do you think she’s pulling away from me? I mean I am the longest relationship she’s ever had, she wasn’t really one for dating before, ya know? I just don’t know what to think anymore…”

“Sorry about this but-,” Claudia leaned over the table and punched her in the shoulder, “Myka Ophelia Bering you idiot!”

“OW! I see why Pete flinches now!” Myka rubbed her shoulder, “What was that for?”

“You listen to me, we know better than anyone else that there is never the right time for anything. Things go wrong every day, and you just gotta go with it. So you are woman up, put your big girl pants on or whatever, and as soon as the kids are passed out in their sugar comas back at the B&B you are going to march to your woman, kiss her right on the mouth and tell her she is marrying you. I have known HG for a long time, trust me, she loves you, she just gets into her projects sometimes. You gotta force her out of it.”

“Thanks Claud,” Myka blushed, looking down at the ring in her hands, “Do you think she’ll like it? It’s been in my family forever, but I had the stones replaced.”

“She’ll love it.” Claudia assured her with a smile that Myka returned easily through her excitement and nerves. She was doing this. She was actually going to do this. Helena wouldn’t be her girlfriend anymore, soon she would be her wife.

* * *

Much as Helena was loath to admit, once she and Wolly had gotten to the H.G. Wells aisle she had caved to the excitement of sharing her ancestors work.

 

“We could actually get these to work.” Wolly had smiled at her, “It would take a little work, but we could actually do it.” He went on to explain a little of what HG had already figured out.

“When did you get so smart?” she poked him in the ribs.

“I’ve always been smart, you just never asked for my help.” Wolly’s smile faultered slightly.

“Well,” HG looked to the piles of work around her, “would you like to help me now?”

“I’d love to!” he was positively beaming now, and HG found it hard to stay too angry with him now.

And they had worked together for hours, loosing track of time in their laughter and progress. It was fun, HG had to admit, having his help, having someone to trust her discoveries with.

They were elbow deep in wires and covered in soot and grease when an enraged shout pulled them out of their work.

“What the hell?”

HG hit her head on the lid of the machine she was in, and Wolly dropped his clipboard and pen as he grabbed his chest.

“Ow,” Helena rubbed the back of her head, looking up to find an enraged and confused Myka standing gape mouthed at the head of the aisle, “Myka! What are you-?”

“Uh oh.” Wolly said quietly in a sing song voice.

“What are you doing?” Myka demanded taking one step further into the work space, “Is this what you gave up… this is why… what are you even  _doing_?” she demanded.

“This is the H.G. Wells aisle,” Helena waved her hand around, “All his inventions and discoveries… did you know he was a warehouse agent? His writings are very interesting…” she expected to see her excitement reflected on Myka’s face, but trailed off when she realized it was rage she was seeing.

“We were… we just wanted to fix some of the things up, see if we can’t get some to work.” She kept talking, hoping to get Myka to say  _something_ ,  _anything._

“You lied to me.”

 _Anything but that,_ “Not exactly, I just didn’t tell you-,”

“No,” Myka snapped, “I- I can’t deal with this right now.” She turned and began walking away.

“Myka, wait!” Helena chased after her, catching up to her two aisles over, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to a stop.

“Let go of me. HG.” Myka spoke between her teeth, and HG could see the enraged tears threatening to spill over, “Seriously.”

“Please, Myka, talk to me.” She begged.

“I can’t! Because you lied to me,  _again_. You are always lying to me, and you never see what’s wrong with it. For god’s sake, Helena, you used my illness to get out of going out with me and your daughter to night just so you could play inventor with Wolly!”

“It’s not like that, Myka-,”

“No, HG, I can’t listen to yo try and defend yourself now. Not only are you lying to me and sneaking around, you’re messing with dangerous stuff down here with out anyone knowing-,’

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” HG realized as soon as the words were out of her mouth, that was the exact wrong thing to say.

“Your precious secret is safe with me,” she spat between her teeth, “Now let go of me,” she tried to pull her arm back, but HG was stronger than she expected, and she had to throw her weight into it.

She fell free, literally, crashing into a shelf, causing artifacts to come crashing around her.

“Myka!” HG lurched forward, quick to push the curiosities off of her and help her to her feet, “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” she held her face between her hands, but now all she saw in Myka’s face was sadness.

HG tried to kiss it away, but Myka wouldn’t respond, “I can’t do this with you anymore, Helena.” She whispered, tears finally falling.

“What are you saying?” Her heart felt as if it was being pulled from her chest, and the sound of blood was rushing in her ears.

“I’m saying,” She pulled away, and Helena felt the loss profoundly, “That I can’t be with you anymore.” She started to walk away.


	7. You Lie, I Run

The road blurred faster than Myka could wipe the tears from her eyes. And this far out, street lights were a thing of myth. And, left alone with her thoughts and the sounds of her own stifled sniffing, it all hit her like mac truck to the chest.

With the tire jerked sideways, she slammed on the breaks, needing to get off the road  _now_ , because now came the anger. The seething directionless rage and she began to hit the wheel well, bloodying her knuckles, not like she noticed. She leaned on the horn to cover the wordless scream of pain and anger that was ripped from her throat. She screamed until her breath was gone, her throat raw and her head pounding.

And then the tears returned with full force, flowing constantly down her face as her body was wracked with sobs. She cried as if her heart was breaking, because every piece of it suddenly was.

Helena was supposed to be it. She was the one who owned her, heart and soul. And when left her in the warehouse, she left behind all of her.

Soon- or maybe not so soon, she isn’t sure how long it was she sat on the side of the road- she was empty. She had cried herself out and in settled the familiar numbness that she had almost forgotten over the last three years.

This wasn’t rational- it couldn’t be. Leaving a four year relationship over one fight. Or perhaps it was- if it was they repeated the same fight over and over, the broken record of their lives. Helena hiding something from Myka, having to tell lie upon lie to keep it hidden for whatever justification she had picked this time.

What happened to communication and trust? When had they gotten so bad at talking to each other- they used to spend hours and hours, loosing themselves in just talking to one another. Life had changed for them after college, that was she was sure of. But was it just them, or had the warehouse played a part in ripping them apart- like it seemed to constantly be doing to her?

No, none of this seemed rational. She couldn’t trust herself, and apparently she couldn’t trust Helena. She needed… she needed….

What she needed and what she wanted were in direct conflict. She wanted to turn around, drive back to the warehouse and fight it out and have incredible make up sex like they always did. But “like they always did” was clearly not working. They needed to change, because it wasn’t working between them. Not like this.

So she wiped her tears on the heel of her hands, flipped the blinker on and merged back onto the deserted road, headed back for the B&B- at least for now.

She didn’t think, maybe that was her problem to begin with- never thinking. She wouldn’t ever be able to think straight again- or so it felt. And that caused time to jump strangely around her, because one moment she was driving through the plains, and now she was trudging up the dark stairs of the B&B, everyone having long fallen asleep at this hour.

With her duffel bag pulled from the bottom of her bed, half filled with things she felt she couldn’t live a few weeks with out- the obvious excluded- she allowed herself to consider for a moment what she was doing. She was leaving, actually leaving. Packing a bag in the middle of the night and walking out of what had become her life.

Myka just accepted that, right now, she wasn’t capable of rationality.

She couldn’t just leave, even she could admit that as she walked carefully down the hall way to the furthest room. The door opened silently on well-greased hinges. Stars danced across the walls and ceiling, cast form Christina’s night light. Providing enough light so that Myka could see to small forms, Danni on the top bunk of the bed, and Christina on the bottom.

Myka sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Christina’s chest, the even breaths puffing out of her squished cheeks, blowing her hair gently in front of her face, her nose twitching each time it was tickled.

Myka brushed that hair behind her daughter’s ear, “Chrissy,” She leant forward, placing a gentle kiss on her temple, “Christina.”

“Hm?” her face scrunched up in tired confusion, small hands reaching up to rub the sleep form her eyes as she rolled on to her back, “Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong sweetie,” Myka whispered, working hard to keep her voice form cracking, “I’m sorry for waking you up, I just wanted to see you before I left.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” she yawned hugely, struggling to keep her eyes open, “Where are you going? More artifacts?”

Myka shook her head, though the girl didn’t see, “No… no sweetie, I’m just going to go on a little trip is all.”

“Is Mum going?” She was waking up now, working to sit up, but still keeping her voice low so as not to wake her friend.

“You’re mum and I…” Myka rubbed the back of her neck, struggling for words. What was she supposed to tell Christina? That the women she considered her mothers had broken up? That she wasn’t sure that things were going to get better for them? That she was running away like a coward? “No, you’re mum’s not going.” She said simply in a defeated tone.

“Can I go with you?” Christina’s wide brown eyes were watching Myka carefully.

“No, you-,” she started, shaking her head.

“Its okay, Mom, I can be ready to go now, I just… I just need my toothbrush and a change of clothes,” she struggled to get out of bed, her feet getting tangled in the covers.

“Christina, you can’t-,” Myka steadied her, stopping her from getting out of bed.

“I can be real quick,” tears were swelling in her eyes now, looking so much like her mother, “It’ll only take a second and I can go with you.”

“Christina, I can’t take you with me.” Myka’s voice was thick with tears

“Yes you can!” She argued, tears streaming down her face now.

“Kiddo, I don’t know when I’ll be back, you’re Mum would be so worried-,”

“Then take us with you, Mom!” she sobbed, gripping to the collar of Myka’s shirt.

“I can’t, sweetie,” Myka tried again, but couldn’t force anymore words out of her tight throat.

“Why?” Christina sobbed, falling into Myka’s chest, her body shaking slightly with tremors, “I-I don’t want you to leave me too, Myka, you’re my mom.”

The words, barely understandable through sniffles and choked back sobs, hit Myka like a ton of bricks and she clutched Christina tighter to her, “I know sweetie, I know. But I’ll be back soon, I promise you. I  _promise_ you.”

Chrisitna didn’t say anything, she continued to sniffle slightly as Myka rocked her back and forth until she fell back to sleep, and she held her for a moment longer still, breathing in her scent as her heart broke further.

“I love you so much,” Myka whispered as she tucked her back into bed, “Please be good for your mom.”

Before her resolve could break, Myka left the room, returning to her own for the last time. She took a moment to pen to letters, one to Claudia, one to Helena, using a small object Myka refused to look at too closely to weigh down her girlfriends-  _Helena’s_  on the night stand while tacking Claudia’s to the crock board hanging on the techie’s door.

Leaving her phone and her Farnsworth on the counter, sparing one last glance at the dark house, Myka hefted the strap over her shoulder and walked back out into the night.

* * *

“I have to get her, Wolly,” HG was having trouble remembering the layout of the warehouse in her distress, “I have to go after her.”

 

“She told you not to, Hel,” Wolly reminded her, wholly unhelpful.

“It doesn’t matter!” she snapped, “I can’t… we can’t… this is your fault!” she rounded on him suddenly, “You blackmailed me into staying here with you!”

“I’m not the one who lied to Myka, Helena,” he shrugged, “You had been keeping this project of yours a secret long before I came along.”

Helena ran her hands through her hair with a bit more force than normal, wishing to rip her hair out at the roots but restraining herself, “I know, alright? I  _know_  that I fucked it up, Wolly, so I don’t need your bloody commentary on it!

HG stopped yelling when he lifted his hands in surrender, taking a step back from her explosive anger. It wasn’t often that Wolly was on the receiving end of the infamous wrath of Helena G. Wells, and that was because he learned early on when not to push her.

Helena was furious and frustrated and in a great deal of pain. She would have told Myka about what she was working on, HG was sure of that. She would have taken her to the aisle and explained everything. She shouldn’t have found out like this, because she had skipped out on a family outing they had planned.

She could admit that she should have told her much sooner than this, she had just got so caught up in it, and honestly, if she were to get in trouble with the warehouse for what she was doing, she didn’t want Myka being dragged down with her. Plausible deniability.

But now… gods now she wished more than anything she would have told Myka from the start. Then Wolly wouldn’t have been able to blackmail her, Myka wouldn’t have… what was it she did, were they broken up now?

No, that couldn’t… they couldn’t…

Helena was running then, full sprint down the aisles, keeping an eye on the zip line to keep her bearings. Her muscles were screaming, her lungs burning, but that pain was nothing compared to what she felt just below her ribcage, it made her feel sick, so she pushed on, keeping only one thought in her mind- she had to get to Myka.

The sun was rising by the time she burst through the door, she squinted against it she drove down the deserted road, wishing she had her sunglasses so she could drive faster without the worry that she would collied with some unseen object.

She burst through the door without a thought that she might wake people. She only needed to get to Myka, to talk to her. To beg her of her forgiveness yet again. She was pulled up short when she found the house already awake, however, sitting at the foot of the stairs.

Well, at least Claudia and the two little girls, and they all had tears in their eyes.

“What happened?” HG’s heart was pounding in her ears.

“We were hoping you could tell us.” Claudia’s tone was flat, and Christina refused to make eye contact as her best friend pat her back awkwardly.

“Where’s Myka?” she looked up the stairway, itching to get past them to her.

“She left,” Christina spat out, fresh tears spilling down her reddened cheeks.

“What?” the blood drained from Helena’s face as she began to lose feeling- her body trying to spare her the pain creeping in to her bones.

“Danni, why don’t you take Chrissy to the kitchen, Leena’s going to make you girls some pancakes.”

“Come on Chrissy.” Danni nodded, pulling her friend to her feet, wrapping her arm around her shoulders.

Claudia waited until the girls were out of earshot before she turned her icy glare on HG, “What the  _frack_  happened HG?” she demanded in a harsh whisper, “Last I see Myka she’s all excited to… go see you, next thing I know I’m waking up to the sound of Danni trying to console our daughter and a note tacked to my door.”

She held the scrap of paper up to Helena’s face, the neat handwriting was easily recognizable, and HG let her eyes trace over the words, trying to understand what they were saying.

“ _I’m leaving for a bit. I need to clear my head. Please don’t track me down Claud, I need space. I love you and I’ll be back soon._ ”

“Her phone is off, she’s not picking up the Farnsworth and she turned the lojack on her car off.” Claudia’s voice was tainted with confusion and sadness and anger, but HG couldn’t process that right now, there was no way… Myka couldn’t just be  _gone_.

She pushed past the redhead, setting her feet to pounding up the stairs, heading straight for Myka’s bedroom. She froze as soon as the door swung open. It was dark, the bed neatly made, and HG’s blood ran cold. A quick look around revealed clothes missing, as well as her duffle and a few other items.

But it was the small notepad paper on the night stand that drew Helena’s eye. She lifted the thing holding it still in the slight breeze of the air conditioning, holding the two pages up that were covered in shaky handwriting and tear stains.

_Helena,_

_By the time you read this, I’ll most likely be long gone. We’ve done this a hundred times, it’s almost a routine for us now._

_You lie, I run._

_I keep asking myself why it should be any different now. Only it is different, isn’t it? Because this time, I don’t want you to chase me down and beg for forgiveness and understanding- because I will give it to you without a second thought._

_I love you, Helena. So very much. And that’s why I have to go. I need to think clearly, and fogging my thoughts has always been a special talent of yours._

_I can’t tell you where I’m going or when I’ll be back, because honestly, I have no idea myself. I can promise you this though, I will_ _be back._

_And so that you know I will keep my promise, I want you to hold on to something for me. Possibly just until I get back, hopefully forever._

_-Myka_

Helena looked at the ring that sat in the palm of her hand. The platinum band twisting intricately around the smaller red jewels on either side of the diamond in the middle. She stared dumbly at it for a long moment, understanding sinking in.

“She planned on giving that to you last night, before you bailed on her.” Claudia’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, her fingers closed protectively around the ring, “She’d had it with her for the last four years, was waiting for  _the right time_.” She scoffed with an eye roll, “I swear sometimes I want to lock you two in a room so you can just work your crap out like normal people. I’m tired of all this running around you two do.”

“Claud, I need her,” HG admitted, “More than anything, I need to get her back. Please, I… help me.”

Claudia sighed heavily but nodded, “I might have a few ideas as to where she is… it’s a good thing we have to take Danni home anyway…”


	8. Alone-ish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know exactly nothing about Port Townsend

Myka woke violently, drenched in a cold sweat, sitting up quickly, trying to escape the nightmare more fully.

She sucked in a deep breath and gaged, scrambling out of bed. Her feet became tangled in the twisted sheets, tripping and landing hard on her hands and knees. She didn’t have the presence of mind to untangle herself, and was forced instead to crawl as best she could with moist palms and scraped knees to the bathroom.

She made it just in time to vomit the bile burning a hole in her throat, chocking and gasping in the thick air until she could lay her overheated face on the edge of the cool bathtub.

It had been so real, so  _terribly_  real, she wasn’t even completely sure that it hadn’t actually happened, and she had to fight the urge to find a phone and call anyone,  _everyone_  who could tell her it wasn’t true.

“Myka?” a sleep roughened voice called softly as a pair of feet came to a stop at the threshold of the room, toes painted pink wiggled as weight shifted from right to left and back, unsure of where they wanted to go.

“You know, Trace,” Myka’s voice cracked as she spoke, “You’re going to need to know how to deal with throw up eventually. Katie won’t be a happy baby forever.”

“Her terrible twos have bled into the terrible threes.,” Myka could practically hear the eye roll, and the feet moved further into Myka’s line of sight, “I’d hardly call her happy.”

Myka grunted her response, closing her eyes to try and keep the room from spinning, unable to shake the feeling that she was trapped to a demented tilt-a-whirl.

“Mykes,” came the heavy sigh accompanied by the barely audible sound of bare feet padding over tile, “You look like shit.” Fabric brushed against itself as Tracy knelt beside her sister, putting the back of her hand to Myka’s forehead, “Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

“I’m fine,” Myka rolled her head away from the touch, “It’s just a bug, I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Mhmm,” Tracy hummed disbelievingly, “That’s what you said yesterday, and the day before that. Everyday you’ve been here, and I’d venture to guess since before you got here too.”

“I said I’m fine,” Myka snapped, prying her eyes open to glare blearily at her sister’s worried expression, “If I wanted to be babied, I would have gone to mom and dad.”

“Why did you come here, Myka?” Tracy, instead of being put off my Myka’s attitude as had been the intention, got comfortable, sitting cross legged on the floor, back to the sink, “I mean, I know you said you needed to get away from your girlfriend where you could think, but this isn’t the first place they would have looked for you anyway?”

Myka’s jaw flared, but she refused to speak, irrationally angry for whatever reason.

She had driven aimlessly for a few days, it wasn’t until she saw the “ _Welcome to Port Townsend”_ sign. Of course, where else could she go but to her sisters? Isn’t that what people did when they fought with their significant other? How it took her almost five days to drive fourteen hundred miles she’ll never know. It had all been a sort of blur.

And when she had stumbled up David and Tracy’s porch at ten o clock at night, after a moment of shocked hesitation, Tracy pulled her inside for a hug and a mug of tea that Myka could only remember the warmth of, not the flavor, as it unthawed her veins.

She hadn’t been able to quite explain what had happened to Tracy, wanting to keep her younger sister away from the craziness of the warehouse. All she told her was they had a huge fight and needed space.

“Or were you hoping she did come to find you here? Is that why you’re so pissed? Because she didn’t? Because if you told her not to come, maybe she thinks it’s what you want. I know with David, he doesn’t quite get it sometimes and I have to-,”

“God, Tracy, shut up,” Myka squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her sisters rapid speaking and hand movements was contributing to her anxiety now, and she lurched forward to throw up once more, but it was useless, her stomach was empty.

“Look, Myka, I don’t know what happened between you and Helena-,”

“You’re right, you don’t.” Myka snapped.

“ _But_ ,” Tracy continued, “I know that what you’re doing, running away, it isn’t dealing with your problems. It’s just avoiding them. I mean seriously Mykes how many times are we going to go through this with you two?”

“I’m not avoiding them I just need space.” Myka grumbled.

“Well, I’m not letting you mope around here anymore, Mykes. Honestly it’s depressing.” Tracy brushed invisible lint off her sleeping shirt, trying her hardest not to reveal how worried she actually was.

“I’m not moping,” Myka sneered, “I’d like to see how you would cope with ending a four year relationship.”

“Whatever,” Tracy huffed, returning to her feet, “But you’re leaving the house today.”

“What?” Myka’s anger fell away quickly, eyes wide with a sad panic, “You’re sending me home?”

“No,” Tracy shook her head, “I just refuse to let you lay in bad all day again. So you’re going to get up, take a shower and brush your teeth, eat some real goddamn food and go do  _something_! You are a secret service agent, you are a New York Times bestselling author, you are my big sister and you will get in this shower willingly or I will make you get in this shower.”

“Tracy!” Myka protested as her younger sister yanked her to her feet, reaching around her to turn the shower on, “Don’t you dare!”

Tracy smiled wickedly before shoving Myka into the shower fully clothed. Myka squealed as the freezing water poured over her, but she quickly retaliated by pulling Tracy in with her, using her body to shield her from the torrent of water.

A very immature fight ensued that ebded with water and various bathroom products strewed around the room. The sisters only stopped when the sound of someone clearing their throat had them noticing David staring at them, eyebrows raised, with a giggling Katie on his hip.

The girls looked back to each other, Myka had Tracy pinned, preparing to cover her in shaving cream, Tracy was holding a towel out as a last barrier between her and her sister. They burst into laughter as they each sat back with their backs to the bathtub.

“Right, so, I’m not even gonna ask.” David shook his head and walked down to the kitchen.

“You’re laughing.” Tracy pointed out after a moment, unable to stop herself.

That pulled Myka up short for a moment, “I’m laughing.” She agreed, a bit of wonder in her tone.

“You’re going to be okay.” The younger sister’s tone was filled with relief.

“I’m going to be okay.” Myka gave her a small reassuring smile.

* * *

After cleaning themselves up, they both headed down stairs, and Myka found herself suddenly ravenous when she lay eyes on the breakfast David was preparing while talking over his shoulder to his daughter about what sounded like cake for breakfast.

 

“But why?” Katie’s small voice inquiered.

“Because cake isn’t good to eat all the time.” David insisted as he pushed scrambled eggs around on the pan.

“Nuh uh! Momma’s cake is always good!” Katie argued.

“Yes, well, that may be true, but if you want to grow up big and strong you have to eat your eggs and bananas.” He pointed out, not bothering to explain that hadn’t been what he meant.

Katie seemed to think for a moment, “Like Auntie Mykes?”

“Just like your Auntie Mykes, munchkin.” Myka ruffled her hair as she moved around the kitchen behind her brother in law, grabbing a random assortment of food- an apple, yogurt, a chocolate cupcake, a spoonful of still hot eggs from the pan, a couple sliced of sharp cheddar cheese, a croissant and a glass of strawberry milk that was supposed to be for Katie.

She realized that she was getting twin dirty looks from Tracy and her husband, “What?” she asked with her mouthful.

The other adults in the room exchanged a look, “Yeah, you’re quite the role model for your niece, Myka. Have you been hanging out with Pete too much? I thought you didn’t eat sugar?”

Myka looked down at what she had grabbed, half way through eating it already. A wave of nausea rolled through her again, but she pushed it down, and the food away from her, “Sorry, I don’t… I was hungry I guess…”

“Auntie Mykes,” Katie demanded her attention before her parents could further comment, “Auntie Mykes, we gon to beach today. You come?”

“You’re going to the beach today?” Myka subtly corrected her, and the girl nodded, and Myka looked to her sister, “Yes, I would love to go with you.” She smiled and the girls face lit up.

After that it was impossible to get Katie to slow down as she rushed her mother and aunt about in an attempt to get them to the beach faster. David chuckled as he escaped to work.

* * *

Myka knew something was off as soon as they left the house.

 

She got a creeping sensation on the back of her neck, and her stomach rolled as if she was about to vomit once more. She glanced around quickly, searching for whatever set her off, but came up empty.

It was her PTSD, she was sure of it. The symptoms never fully went away, and never would unless they gooed the dog tags. She was still convinced that she was one who could work of feelings, she worked off the cold hard facts.

So Myka didn’t speak up, just shook her head as she and her sister continued to walk down the semi crowded streets of Port Townsend, the sun finally breaking through the crowds and turning the day beautiful.

That’s when it hit her again. The tingling sensation, the dread and sudden sense of urgency. And before she could shake herself out if it, a familiar scent briefly over powered the ocean brine.

“Do you smell fudge?” Tracy asked, nose twitching as she looked to Myka.

A man cried out in pain over Tracy’s shoulder, Myka witnessed as his shoulder exploded with blood and he crumpled to his knees.

Myka grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her backwards, pulling the stroller with them. She glanced around madly, but no one else seemed to notice the man bleeding out on the pavement.

“Myka, what the hell?” Tracy demanded, voice raised, and Myka clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Shhh!” She glared at her sister, turning her head and showing her the man on the ground. It was just in time to see a woman jerk forward as if being punched in the back, and she fell forward a twenty feet away from the first man.

“Oh ma gd.” Tracy’s words were muffled by Myka’s hand.

“Exactly, lets go.” She pulled her backwards once more, towards a small store. It was mostly empty but one man standing behind the register.

He noticed the freaked out look on the both of them quickly, “Whoa, are you two okay?”

“Do you have a cellar?” Myka asked him, “A store room? Anything?”

“Our cold storage is down stairs?” he shifted uncomfortable from one foot to the other.

“Fantastic, look you take my sister and niece down there, you lock yourselves in and you don’t leave until I come back and say it’s alright.”

“Mykes-,” Tracy turned a wide eyed gaze on her.

“Um, we’re really not allowed to let customers down there-,”

“What’s your name?”

“Uh, Lyle?”

“Alright, Lyle, look here,” Myka pulled her badge out, “Look, kid, I am a secret service agent, and I am telling you to keep my sister safe until I can figure out what is going on outside those doors.”

“Whoa,” he said again, blinking slowly, “Yeah sure, alright, you got it,” he lifted the partition between the counter and the store floor so Tracy and Katie could go through.

“Myka, what are you doing?” Tracy demanded as she was shoved in the direction of safety.

“My job.” Myka snapped, not out of anger, but urgency, she had no idea if anyone else was getting hurt or dying out there while she stood here arguing with her sister and some intoxicated kid.

“Auntie Mykes?” Katie’s small voice traveled up to them, and MYka crouched to look at her hazel eyes, filled with tears as she wiped the back of her hand under her little nose, “Are you gonna go get bad guys?” She didn’t fully understand what was happening but she had seen the hurt people in the streets, and now her aunt was yelling.

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m gonna go get the bad guys.” Myka assured her with a smile, running a hand down her hair before kissing her forehead, “You look out for your mom, I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful, Myka,”Tracy pulled her into a crushing hug, “I don’t want your girlfriend coming down on me if I give you back in less than perfect condition.”

Myka smiled as her sister tried to hide her worry behind jokes, as usual, but she was reminded of something, that she had a family at home, and she was putting herself in danger. But she didn’t have a choice. She also had a family here, who was in danger, and the imminent threat outweighed the guilt.

She grabbed her bag from under the stroller before pushing them towards the door once more. Myka waited until the doorway to the cellar was closed, listened for the sound of a lock turning into place. She took a deep breath, rummaging around her purse.

Myka kept all the normal girl stuff in there, makeup, gum, tampons, tissues, pepper spray, random earrings, mints, receipts, old movie tickets, about five pounds of change, chapstick, pens, her wallet, some pain killers, her glasses, an extra pair of contacts, hair ties, band-aids, a utility knife, extra earphones... But what she held in her hand after a moment of searching was what she was after.

Claudia, once given the free reign of the warehouse and the small supply store in Univille, went right to work changing up hers and Helena’s original design on the tesla. She made grenades, one that looked like a sniper and had better accuracy at longer distances, one that looked like a shotgun and had a wider spread, and this one, small, pocket sized to be easily concealed.

It only had enough power for two or three charges before it needed to be recharged, but it was all Myka had to work with now, she had left her gun and other tesla in her room at the Bed and Breakfast. It was a miracle at all she had thought to bring this one and her badge.

She left her purse on the floor and ventured back outside, keeping her back to the building, her tesla close to her chest. There were three more people on the side walk or on the street. Some were groaning in pain, some lay still.

Myka swore under her breath and looked around. People were shouting and running in every which direction. Panic had finally broken out as people realized what was happening. Just before another man in a business suit went down, Myka caught a glimpse of a flash, light reflecting off a lens.

The building across from her, some type of government building, on the roof, she could make out the shape of someone laying on their stomach, and what looked like a sniper rifle propped under his chin.

She would have to cross right in front of what his apparent target range was. Her heart pounded in her ears at the thought. But what choice did she have? To keep letting these people get picked off one by one?

She had a job, and the smell of fudge that seemed to be getting worse definitely put this in her jurisdiction. Sticking close to the row of buildings, Myka started jogging down the sidewalk, back the way her and Tracy had come, for about a half a block before finally crossing the street at a dead sprint.

She tried to slow her breathing as she kept close do the buildings on this side of the street, hoping his effectively put her out of the shooters line of sight. As she got closer to the government building, she found herself wishing her partner was there as back up. Pete and her had created a working system, and now wit out him here, she had never felt more alone and exposed.

But more importantly, she wished she hadn’t run off from home. Because if something were to happen to her now, their last memory of her would be of her yelling at Helena, leaving Christina in tears in her bedroom, abandoning them in the dead of night because she couldn’t handle her own shit.

She found herself begging god, or whoever was listening, that she get through this so she could make it right.

She didn’t have time for long prayers as a woman in a red jogging suit and earphones fell to the ground right in front of her and she realized she was standing in front of the building, she turned into the glass doors.

She swung her tesla around, but it seemed to be empty. She ignored the elevator and began her way up the stairs, taking them two at a time, keeping all her weight on her toes to move quickly and as quietly as possible.

By the time she reached the door that lead to the roof, having been propped open by a cinder block, she was drenched in sweat, her hands shaking around her weapon, and her breathing and heart beat were erratic.

She opened the door slowly with her shoulder as she stepped sideways through it, keeping her tesla aimed at chest level.

There was only one person up there, a man with grey hair and a sniper rifle. Myka fixed her aim on him and stepped forward.

Her foot kicked a rock that skittered noisily over the stucco.

“Shit,” she hissed as the man rolled to his back, bringing the gun with him and pointing the business end of it at her chest.

Myka pulled her trigger a moment before he did. The crack of the gun overpowering the electrical sound of the tesla.

Myka froze as the man fell unconscious. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to make itself known. She remembered all too well what it felt like to get shot. But she counted to ten, and then to twenty, and nothing happened. She took a breath in and nearly chocked. She opened her eyes to realize she was surrounded by dust. The bullet had missed her by a couple of inches. Burying into the side of the doorway.

Myka moved forward then, keeping her whining tesla trained on his unmoving body. She kicked the gun away from him, looking over him with careful eyes until she noticed what he wore around his neck. It was a sniper rifle cartrage, tied around his neck with a leather cord.

Myka tucked her tesla into her pants and pulled a tissue from her back pocket, being careful not to touch the bullet as she yanked it from around his neck.

She pocketed it, using the tip of her shoe to turn him over and keep a knee in his back. She found a cellphone in his back pocket and dialed 911, though from the sounds on the streets below, they had already arrived.

“Police don’t move!” they shouted as the door behind her was kicked open with more force than necessary, “Show us your hands!”

“My name is Myka Bering! I am a secret service agent!” she yelled back calmly, “I’m reaching for my badge, do not shoot me!”

She pulled her badge out once more, holding it up for the closest police officer to see the insignia.

“Put down your weapons!” he ordered his men, “Sorry about that, Agent Bering.” He gave her a hand up, “Do you mind telling us what happened?”

After a twenty minute debriefing, where she had to explain just what she was doing in Port Townsend, they let Myka go, and she immediately ran across the street to the small store. She knocked on the cellar door.

“It’s safe, come on!” She shouted.

“How do we believe you?” the guy called out to her, “how do we know its actually safe?”

“Lyle, you idiot, open the door!” Myka growled.

“What’s the name of your kid?” Tracy asked next, sounding closer to the door than Lyle did.

“Christina Anne Wells.” Myka replied, her voice cracking slightly.

The door opened and she was tackled by a hug from Tracy, “Don’t ever do that ever again.” She punched her in the shoulder when she pulled back.

“Ow!” She complained, rubbing her arm as if it actually hurt, “It’s kinda my job, Trace.”

“Not alone it isn’t.” she mumbled.

“Come on, an officer is going to drive us back to your place.”

* * *

David burst through the front door about two minutes after they had gotten home. Running straight to his daughter and pulling her up to his chest, breathing in deeply the scent of her hair before he glanced around hurriedly, looking for her mother.

 

“Dave,” Tracy called softly, and just like that, she was pulled into the embrace and kissed repeatedly where ever his lips could reach.

“The police chief called me and told me what happened.” His voice was gruff with emotion, “Are you alright? Where’s Myka?”

“I’m right here, getting seriously grossed out.” Myka mumbled around the chocolate muffin she found on the counter.

David passed his daughter over to Tracy and took a step towards Myka, an intense look in his eye, and she prepared herself for his anger. After all, hadn’t Myka put his family in danger?

But just as she flinched away from his advance, he pulled her into his chest with a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Myka opened and closed her mouth a few times, “For what?”

“If you hadn’t been there… They walk down that road almost every day Myka, and if you hadn’t been there…” he seemed unable to complete that line of thought and just hugged his sister in law tighter.

Myka was so caught off guard. She hadn’t thought that. What if Tracy and Katie had gone to the beach without her there today? Would they be among the injured and dead? Would she have been called down to bury her sister and niece?

Myka pulled away from David suddenly, running to the downstairs bathroom and throwing up again, the nausea rolling violently through her once more.

“Jesus Mykes,” Tracy’s chuckle could barely be heard over the ringing in her ears, “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

Myka rolled her eyes, “That joke is going to get old really fast, Tracey.” She croaked before pulling herself up to the sink and rinsing her mouth.

“Myka,” Tracy spoke up after a moment, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think it’s time for you to go home. I’m greatful for everything you did here, and I love having you over, but… I really think it’s time.”

“Even if it wasn’t, I have a really dangerous artifact in my back pocket that needs to be neutralized before it causes anymore damage.” Myka shrugged.

“Myka,” Tracy said in her threatening mom tone.

“I know, Tracy.” Myka shut her eyes tightly, “They were all I could think about. And I think two weeks is long enough.”

“Go home, sis.” Tracy put a hand on her shoulder, and Myka straightened her posture resolutely.

“I’m already on my way.”


	9. Stepford Wives and Fifties Clichés ptI

Myka spent two hours parked in front of the warehouse, just staring at the face of it, watching as the sun shifted overhead and threw shadows across the barren hills. She was talking herself up and psyching herself out in a vicious cycle.

She had taken her time driving back to Univille- anxiety and intermittent vomiting working as excellent excuses to procrastinate and delay until she could put it off no longer- the cartridge in her glove compartment was making everything smell like fudge, demanding to be dealt with straight away.

But what was she supposed to do? She had up and left in the middle of the night, disappeared for nearly three weeks with no contact with her warehouse team whatsoever. Was she to just waltz back in there, “ _Hey, I know I took off in the dead of night without a word, but I’m back now, and with an artifact no less and a stubborn stomach virus. How have you all been_?”

Yeah, that would end famously, alright. Especially if it was Helena she happened to run into first…

Luckily, there didn’t _seem_ to be anyone at the warehouse. As she glanced around the empty space, she realized hers was the only car there. No other SUV, borderline tacky red sports car or Prius parked near the door. She was so consumed with her own trepidation, she hadn’t realized she was all alone.

She took a breath, feeling less fearful as she exited the overheating car at last and walking in jerky movements to the door.

As soon as she exited the umbilicus, she was met with the sounds of blaring alarms echoing through the warehouse floor and offices. She flinched, bringing her hands to her ears and squinting against the blinking myriad of lights.

She glanced around, looking for signs of trouble, looking for signs of life and finding none. She moved for the computers, feeling lost for a moment as she tried to understand what was happening, cold dread gathering in her stomach.

The map of the warehouse was flashing in different areas, darker red in some places, such as the gooery and the dark vault.

She remembered the last time the gooery had failed and shuttered, reaching forward with shaking fingers to input the code to reset the machines regulating the machine regulating the warehouse. Immensely glad Claudia had taken the time to show her how to do it in an emergency.

The sudden quiet was deafening, but a calm settled around her like an old favorite blanket. The Warehouse, trying to be comforting and welcoming even as tension was visibly racking the rafters in the form of thunder clouds. The air directly around her was warm though, and Myka breathed a sigh of relief. They had long since grown accustomed to the sentience of the building they worked in, and she had feared retaliation of some sort at her absence. Bu it seemed to just be happy for her presence.

It was obvious she was the only one there. No movement among the stacks, no smell of coffee in the air, no sounds of files or bickering or typing keys. Not even Artie or Mrs. Fredric. Myka was all alone, and she couldn’t even tell how long everyone had been gone for.

“Well, I did leave them shorthanded,” She tried to rationalize with herself. But that explanation didn’t exactly ring true. They had three other field agents, plus two techies who did field work from time to time.

So where the hell was everyone?

She turned back for the door, and was struck with a sudden wave of sadness she           instinctively knew did not originate from within herself.

“It’s okay,” she glanced around at the building, “Someone will…. I’ll be back.” She promised.

She didn’t have a relationship with the Warehouse like Claudia and Helena and Leena had, those three always far more in tune, even Pete’s vibes connecting him far more than she, but now the building seemed to be reaching out for her, and it was almost a physical ache to leave.

The drive though Univille was… weirder than usual. There was no traffic, all the streetlights were flashing red. People were walking.

Okay, so that last one wasn’t so odd for a small community, but she expected to see at least one person sharing the road with her. And she had never before received such heated looks from pedestrians, glaring at her suspiciously. She wanted to pull over and demand they tell her what their problem was. But instead, she pushed her sunglasses up her nose and stubbornly drove on.

The car slowed as Myka drew ever nearer to Leena’s Bed and Breakfast. It had been Leena’s goal to one day turn her café into a B&B, she just never expected for it to be a few states over and mostly used by government agents. Had become more of a home to the wanderers than anything they had ever known before. So why then, did Myka feel dread begin to creep through her veins at the thought of walking through the familiar blue door?

She broke for every kid with a ball, teen on a bike, swooping bird and darting mouse, until she could stall no longer and the sound of crunching gravel beneath her tires was all that she could hear echoing around her skull.

“You are a secret service agent,” Myka closed her eyes, putting her forehead to the steering wheel as her pep talk began, “You had swordfights on ships, gun battles in barns. You’ve been shot by a mad man and saved wrestlers from spontaneously combusting. You are a kick ass agent, damnit, they are your family. There is no reason to be afraid.”

Several more breaths and on near mental break down later, Myka undid her seat belt and exited the car once more, looking around at their neighbors yards as it seemed everyone appeared to be doing yard work today, all the children playing in the streets on bikes, with jump ropes and balls, not a care in the world. Meanwhile she walked like a woman bound for the gallows.

With the strap to her travel bag clutched tightly to her chest, Myka’s shaking hands wrapped around the door handle, listening to all the tumblers work as she slowly turned the nob in her hand.

With a false smile and a forced bounce to her step, she entered the house, only to immediately stumble to a stop in the hallway, her call of homecoming dead on her lips as her mouth hung agape.

Soft music floated lightly through the air, the sound of someone humming along, the smell of baking pulled her further in, bag abandoned at the foot of the stairs as her legs dragged her to the kitchen.

The source of the music turned out to be an old record player, the humming was Abigale and the baking Leena. Only, there was something off about the whole thing. It could have been the fact that Abigale hummed as she worked with a needle and thread over a blue dress, and Leena twirled around the kitchen in a frilly white apron. Or perhaps it was their reaction to her presence. Or, lack thereof, as the case was.

“Hello, Ms. Bering.” Leena greeted as she lifted a pan of muffins from the oven, “Welcome back.”

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Abigale asked politely, looking up from her work with a smile, though her hands never faltered.

“Uh,” Myka shook her head, “Yeah?”

“That’s good, dear.” Abigale nodded.

“Will you be available for supper, Ms. Bering?”

“Of course.” She responded distractedly, trying to figure out just what was happening. Was this a joke? Was this their way of getting back at her for leaving? By slowly driving her insane with confusion?

“Did I hear something about supper?” A familiar voice called happily, “And what is that heavenly smell?”

“Pete,” Myka breathed, turning to watch her best friend come waltzing in, dressed to the nines, “Pete?” she said again.

“Ms. Bering!” He gave his boyish smile, dipping his hat in greeting.

“What are you wearing?” she stuttered out, causing Abigale and Leena to glare at her.

Pete glanced worriedly down at his business suit, running a hand over his tie, “Is red too bold a color? I should have gone with blue right? But my sweetheart, she likes this color on me.”

“It, um,” Myka cleared her throat, “It looks great. Very sharp, Mr. Lattimer.” That seemed to appease everyone in the room for a moment.

“Thank you, and it’s good to see you back, Ms. Bering, this town was getting a little lackluster with you away.” He chuckled to himself, “And how was your trip? Well I trust?”

“Yes it was.” Myka agreed, “But I haven’t seen HG yet, is she here?”

“HG?” Pete made a face.

“Helena.” Myka clarified, growing uneasy, something was definitely wrong here.

“Oh! Of course! I had forgotten you two were, er, inseparable.” His smile seemed forced now, “I saw her at the park with the girls on my way back here.”

“The park,” Myka nodded, moving around him, “Thanks Pete!” she called over her shoulder, needing to get out of the house now, before the absurdity of it all consumed her.

What in the ever loving hell was going on here? Myka ignored her SUV, walking at a brisk pace towards the small park by the elementary school, hoping to catch any sight of her daughter or HG, her anxiety from having to see them again greatly over shadowed by her worry and nagging feeling of something just not being quite right.

But the park seemed abandoned by the time she tripped on to the green, knees shaking and neck slick with sweat. The sound of birds and ruffling leaves the only greeting she received. Where would she have gone? Where would she have taken the kids?

Not back to the B&B, Myka would have passed them on her journey to the park. Perhaps-

“Mom!” a small voice broke the barriers of panic and conjecture, reaching her ears and spinning her around to catch the small body flinging itself at her.

“Christina,” Myka breathed, burying her nose in the riotous curls that were free from their normal ponytail.

Myka dropped to her knees, begrudgingly pulling back from the embrace to place her hands on Christina’s shoulders and look her over carefully, “Are you okay?” Myka grabbed her daughters face, noting the dark circles and red rimmed eyes and general feel of anxious confusion surrounding her.

“Yeah,” she nodded heavily, “I missed you, and everyone is acting weird and no one will tell me what’s going on!” her voice rose indignantly, there was the anger that Myka was expecting from the little girl, only it didn’t seem to be directed at her, not completely.

“What do you mean?” Myka tilted her head, still trying to let her mind catch up with the swelling in her heart, “What’s going on.”

“Everything is just-,”

“Christina!” a familiar voice called out from behind Myka, hitting her as if she’d been teslaed, “Christina, darling, have you found your toy?”

Myka noticed the now well-loved giraffe gripped tightly in her seven year old’s hand as she held it higher with an eye roll for the owner of the voice to see.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Christina grabbed Myka’s hand with her free one, spinning her, dragging her towards the woman standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently, having eyes only for her child, allowing Myka to gape at her wearing a sun dress, her hair curtaining around her, curling at the ends, causing an ache in Myka’s chest.

“Mum, Mum,” she called out as they drew nearer, “Look who it is,” she presented her adoptive mother with a flourish.

Helena’s eyes traced over Myka’s body carefully, coming to a stop at her eyes finally, sending a shiver down Myka’s spine, her heart stuttering pathetically. She could only manage a shy half wave and flinch internally as she waited for a reaction. Expecting yelling, fighting, she hoped at least Helena would refrain from slapping her in front of their daughter, but she wasn’t quite sure. They hadn’t ended things on the best of terms, and then hadn’t spoken the entire time Myka was gone…

But Myka was so far off base, as it turned out.

“Myka,” HG swallowed, a movement Myka would have missed if not for the years they spent together, Helena’s walls were definitely up, back in full force as if they had never dismantled them brick by brick, “Of course.” She nodded before looking back to her daughter.

Myka physically shook her head once released from the hold of her gaze, the rushing, conflicting emotions dizzying. It was familiar, echoing back to their time in college, when they weren’t quite friends yet, and spent their time together stealing glances and blushing. But so different, as the walls Helena had up now were icy, contemptuous, keeping Myka at a further distance than before.

“I see you found George?” she tilted her head, and Myka made a face that went unnoticed, but was mimicked by the young girl.

“Herbert, Mum,” Christina corrected, “George is at home.”

“Right of course, how silly of me to mix up your giraffes,” She smiled ruefully up at Myka, as if to belittle her daughters assertions, something Helena had never done before, let alone actually mix up the girls beloved toys.

“I was just taking the girls home,” it was then Myka realized Danni stood just behind Helena, a bored expression on her face, wearing a flowery dress that Myka didn’t recognize, “If you wanted to accompany us on our walk?”

“Uh,” Myka glanced down at Christina, who nodded subtly, “O-kay? Sure.” She nodded.

“Brilliant,” HG broke out in a beautiful smile before clasping her hands behind her back and starting her walk away from the park.

Myka shook her head, scrambling briefly to catch up.

The girls skipped ahead as the women fell in step, it was all so very familiar and domestic, for a moment, one blissful peace filled moment, Myka could pretend everything was okay. And then that moment ended.

“So how have you been?” Helena kept her eyes focused on the girls, watching as Danni walked like a prim and proper young lady while Christina skipped around her, trying to get her riled up and play, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

The off hand tone had Myka stammering for a reply, Christina givin her a brief look that said, “ _See? Do you see now? I told you._ ”

“I’ve been okay,” Myka got out finally, shaking her head, “Well, actually, no. I’ve been pretty sick for a few weeks now.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

Christina spun on her fully now, a panicked expression, “Are you alright, Mo-yka?”

Myka flinched at the change in title, but Helena didn’t seem notice her daughter’s near slip or the pain in the tightening of Myka’s eyes, because she too turned to face her, worry evident in her eyes, braking through some of the barriers for a moment.

“Well?” She pressed, stepping into Myka’s personal space, stealing the breath from her lungs and the thoughts from her mind, “ _Are_ you alright?”

Myka swallowed thickly, a soft, familiar look in the depths of Helena’s dark eyes. Her hesitation prompted HG to put her hand to her forehead, short circuiting Myka’s brain completely.

“You have a bit of a fever,” she continued, apparently oblivious to her effects on the other woman, letting her hand trail down her cheek, “And you do seem rather pale.”

“You’re one to talk,” Myka’s voice cracked, making her wish she had said nothing at all, especially when it resulted in the loss of contact and the returning of walls as Helena stepped back with a small, painfully false smile.

“Well I have been a bit too busy caring for the girls to allow myself time to tan.” She said in an offhand tone.

Guilt filled Myka suddenly as they continued walking down the street in silence.

“Listen I know I should have called, or left a way to get a hold of me,” Myka tried to explain over the sound of her own heart beat in her ears, “Just, after our fight, after what happened, I didn’t, I couldn’t…”

“Myka, please,” Helena shrugged, “Put our fighting out of our mind. Really, it isn’t that big of a deal. Honestly, I’ve already forgotten what it was we were arguing over.”

“You’ve already…” Myka trailed off, this time in anger and confusion.

She was about to start yelling, she could feel anger building up in her suddenly, smashing into her gut, irrationally so, the sudden mood swing making her dizzy. She didn’t even realize they were walking up the path way to Danni’s door until HG walked right in after the girls.

“We’re back!” she called out with false cheerfulness.

“Hey!” Dex smiled as he came around the corner, dish towel in hand. He ruffled Christina’s hair and kissed his daughter on the forehead, walking on to gather Helena in a hug, lifting her off the ground and planting a kiss on her lips, spinning her slightly in the air.

“Darling,” HG protested, “Not in front of company, please.”

“Oh,” he seemed to finally notice Myka’s frozen presence in the door way, “Ms. Bering, and how are you today?”

Myka opened her mouth, but no words came out. She stood still for a moment longer before her body pitched forward, kindly offering unconsciousness as a way of escape.


	10. Stepford Wives and Fifties Clichés Pt. II

_"What happened?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Is she all right?"_

_"I don't know!"_

_"Mom?"_

The voices drifted through like a fog, causing Myka's heart swell but her mind to reel back, rejecting something that rested just on the periphery of her knowledge.

_"Get the girls back. I'll get her to the couch."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Mom!"_

_"Dexter, just get them back!"_

Christina was crying.

That's all that would register in her fogged up head. Then a feeling of lightness, and a vague awareness of the world shifting, being moved around her. Combined, these things were causing her to rouse. She didn't like that, didn't want it. She knew there was a danger in waking, there was pain in awareness that she wasn't quite ready to deal with just yet.

She rolled away from the light that penetrated her closed eyes, turning her world red, away from the noises that caused her to cringe. A warming comfort welcomed her, pulling her in closer and filling her with peace.

Myka breathed in the familiar scent that sent sparks through her heart. She smiled, seeking it out more, the memories attached to this scent waking her mush more gently than the harsh noises from before.

She slowly became aware of her body, her surroundings.

The tingling through her skull- fingers trailing softly through her hair. The warmth of another body clinging so tightly to hers. A low rumbling close to her ear- someone speaking under their breath. That particular sound did interesting things to her body- sending shivers down her spine and making her shiver.

"Myka?" the voice spoke softly, the fingers in her hair stilling.

Myka opened her eyes, groaning in protest, but froze when their eyes met.

_Helena._

"Hey." Myka croaked, her voice nearly inaudible.

"Hello." Helena replied with a smirk, though her eyes were still misted with tears unshed, "You gave me quite the start."

"I'm sorry." Myka responded, swallowing thickly, infusing those words with more weight and meaning than a simple apology for fainting.

Myka tried to sit up, her awareness bringing a sense of urgency that something-  _everything -_  needed to be fixed. It wasn't right. Helena shouldn't be here, shouldn't be  _kissing_  Dexter. She and Christina couldn't be living there. This wasn't their place.

"Whoa, careful there, darling." Helena put her hand on Myka's shoulder, steadying her when the vertigo hit.

"I'm alright," Myka assured her.

"You don't look very well," Helena pointed out, her hand brushing locks back from Myka's face, "Are you're alright?"

Even as Myka nodded, she had to fight a wave of dizziness that rolled over her, "Helena, what's going on?" she asked, leaning into the lingering touch on her cheek.

"I don't know what you're talking about," HG blushed, dropping her hand at last, pulling further away from Myka.

"You've got to be kidding me," Myka shook her head, "All of this," she gestured to Dexter's house, "None of this seems strange to you?"

"Of course not, why would it?" arms crossed over her chest, her thumb nail in her mouth- she was hiding something, Myka was sure of it.

"Come on, HG, you can't be serious, what are you doing here with him? Is this some sort of trick? Are you angry with me? Because this is no way to handle it." Myka shook her head.

"What am I- Myka, he is my husband, where should I be?" Helena wasn't meeting her gaze.

"Your husband?" Myka nearly chocked on the word, it was then she noticed the ring adorning Helena's third finger. It was  _her_ ring, the one she had left for Helena, "And just how long have you two been married?" heat filled her voice as something a bit stronger than jealously pulsed through her veins. Myka had never been possessive before, but now it was pounding in her head.

"Um, a while," her face twisted into confusion, and Myka could see her struggling to remember, but quickly grow frustrated, "You know."

And a thought hit Myka, an idea not that farfetched when you considered their line of work. This was some artifact, messing with them. Making them believe what they were saying. Well, Myka was just going to have to shatter that belief.

"Oh, is that so?" Myka pushed, "Then tell me, Helena, when's your anniversary? Hm? When's his birthday? Where did you two meet? What is he allergic to?"

"I don't know," HG stood up and began to slightly pace back and forth, "Everything has been a sort of fog lately…"

"Why don't you two have any wedding photos up? Or any photos of the four of you at all?" Myka went on.

"I don't know." Helena said more aggressively, keeping her eyes focused on her quickening feet, "I don't like photographs. Or- or-,"

"Why were none of your things here? Why can't you remember anything about Dexter or Danni or anything that you should?" Myka was also on her feet now.

" _I don't know_!" she stopped her movements, finally looking- well, glaring- at Myka.

"I can tell you why," Myka stepped towards her, "Because you don't  _belong here_. Dexter isn't your husband, you guys aren't even really friends. I don't know what's going on, but  _this,_ this isn't right."

"And how do you know that?" HG demanded, "How is it you think you know what's going on?"

"The same way I know that your body is torn right now," Myka stepped towards her, "Part of you wants to yell and get mad at me, another part wants to grab me, to kiss me. Am I right?" Helena didn't respond, but a blush colored her features, "I know you don't love him because you love me."

"Don't be absurd Myka," Helena turned away from her, missing the hurt that flashed across her face, "You and I are just- we're friends Myka. Nothing more. To insinuate that we are more is- is-," she seemed at a loss for words.

"Friends?" Myka scoffed, shaking her head and moving closer to Helena once more until she was standing directly behind her, "Tell me this Helena, would a friend know how soft your skin is?" she trailed her fingers lightly down Helena's arm, causing the other woman to start slightly. But she didn't pull away- and encouraging sign as far as Myka was concerned.

"Would they be able to tell by a word, but a sound,  _exactly_ what you wanted without you having to ask?" Myka kept her voice low, steady, as her hands ran down HG's back, thumbs pressing lightly along her spine, until she reached her hips and was able to wrap her fingers around them, Helena's breathing hitched as she leaned into the touch.

Myka pulled Helena closer to her, leaning in to whisper into her ear, "would they know just where to touch, where to kiss, to drive you absolutely insane?" she let her lips brush the Shell of Helena's ear, causing the other woman to release a small sound, something between a whimper and a moan.

Myka moved around so they faced one another, using the hand still resting on Helena's hip to pull them flush against each other. Helena's hands went to Myka's arms, not pulling her closer, but not pushing her away either, just there to make sure the woman before her was solid, that this was actually happening.

"A friend wouldn't remember in  _vivid_ detail what it's like to kiss you," she let her eyes wander slowly down HG's frame, " _Everywhere?_  Wouldn't crave a taste after it had been so long…"

Their lips met, it was hesitant, shy, a mere brushing of mouths, nowhere near enough to satisfy either woman, and yet Helena pulled back, finally pushing Myka away from her.

"Helena-," Myka shook her head, trying to clear it, to catch up.

"We can't," Helena crossed her arms, shoulders seeming to hunch in on themselves, seeming so unlike the woman Myka knew, " _I_ can't, Myka. Don't you get it?  _I'm married._ To Dexter. And whether or not it's where I belong, no matter what I may feel for you, it isn't right. It isn't how the world works.

"Helena," Myka reached out for her, only for the other woman to step out of her reach.

"I need you to leave," HG insisted.

"But-,"

"Now, please," her face was angry, but she seemed on the verge of tears, and Myka most certainly did  _not_ want to leave, but Helena wasn't going to give her much of a choice.

"Fine," Myka put her hands up, stepping backwards towards the front door, "I'll leave. But Helena, I'm going to figure out what is going on here, and I'm going to fix it. When I do, you find me."

Helena didn't say anything, just let Myka walk out the door before she let the sob escape her lips.

Myka was half way down the walk when she heard the back gate slam on it's hinges, "You're leaving?" a small, desperate, tear drenched voice called out.

Myka spun, automatically crouching to catch the running Christina in her arms, holding her close, "Shh, kiddo, it'll be okay."

"Why are you leaving?" Christina demanded, voice muffled by Myka's shoulder, "I thought you would fix it! I just want to go home. Please, Mom, please can we go home?"

"I'm trying, sweetie, I'm trying, I promise," Myka rubbed her back, "I'm going to figure out what's going on and I'm going to fix it. I need your help though, can you do that? Can you help me?"

Christna pulled back, sniffling and rubbing her nose on the back of her hand, but she gave a small nod.

"Okay, can you tell me when this all started? When did everyone start acting weird?"

"Right after you left," she hiccupped, "Everyone was yelling 'coz you were gone. Mum thought you might have come here since you and Mr. West are friends, but when we got here, Mum started to feel dizzy, and Danni, too. That's when everything got all wonky, and them Mum and Dexter started acting like how Dad and Emily act. And everytime I try to talk to someone, to ask what is happening they all look at me like I'm crazy!" the tears started to fall once more, and Myka was quick to wipe them away.

Clearly there was an artifact in play, that much was obvious to the agent. An artifact that seemed to be effecting everyone except Christina, which had to mean-

"Christina, I need you to tell me something, it's very important," Myka looked her daughter in the eye, waiting for the girl to nod with her, "Did you take something from the Warehouse? I won't be mad, and you won't get in trouble, but it is very important that I know."

Myka saw the guilt fill the girl's features, "I just wanted to show Danni, so we could hunt  _real_  curiosities together. I wanted to show her all the cool stuff you and Mummy do."

Myka breathed carefully through her nose and out her mouth, trying to control her emotions, "What did you take?"

"It was just a doll," She shook her head, "A really old one."

"Okay, where is it now, Christina?" Myka asked slowly, unsure of which doll Christina had gotten her hands on. She knew of several  _very_ dangerous ones that lived on the shelves of the warehouse, and her skin crawled to think what would have happened if Christina had chosen one of those instead.

"I brought it to school with me, Mrs. Johnson took it away from me. She said we weren't supposed to take toys to school."

 _Damn that woman_ , Myka groaned.

None of what Christina was telling her was making any sense. School had been let out weeks ago. And if Chrisitna didn't even have the artifact anymore, why were the effects only happening  _now_? Did her leaving have something to do with it?

"I need to go get it back from the teacher, but I promise, this is all almost over." Myka kissed the girl's forehead.

"And then we can go home?" she asked hopefully, looking up as Myka rose.

"And then we can go home." Myka nodded.

**_XXXXX_ **

Myka drove to the school, ignoring the dirty looks she was receiving from pedestrians. There were things in her car she needed- the static bags and purple gloves, a canister of purple goo just in case.

She parked in the space closest to Christina's old classroom, easy enough in the empty parking lot. She mentally went over the steps Helena had taught her to pick a lock as she quickly strode across the short lawn.

The refresher turned out to be unnecessary, because when she grabbed the handle, the doo pulled easily open. Myka's brain short circuited with the scene she was presented with. Mrs. Jonson sat at a table in the back of the classroom surrounded by a mountain of papers, and sitting next to her, a pencil in her mouth as she typed away on a laptop, was Claudia.

"Uh," Myka blinked.

"Oh, hey Miss B." Claudia nodded at her with a smile, causing Mrs. Johnson to look up at her as well.

"Hey, Claud, what, uh, whatcha doing?" she stepped further into the classroom.

"A teacher's work is never done, right Ms. Donovan?" Mrs. Johnson answered, "Claudia is helping me as she works on her masters in teaching. School has been out for a few weeks now, but there is still so much to do to close out the year. Not to mention prep for next year's students."

"Riiiight." Myka nodded, not bothering to bring up all the degrees Claudia already held, this wasn't the weirdest thing she'd seen on this seriously messed up day, and hopefully it would all be over soon anyhow. "I, um, came to collect Christina Well's file and paperwork."

"Christina Wells?" Mrs. Johnson made a face, "Oh, you must mean Christina  _West_. You must be Mr. and Mrs. West's new nanny."

"I'm more of a tutor, really," Myka went with it, wanting to ge ton with it, "And Dex- Mr. West sent me to collect his daughters' files and personal effects from the year. I believe Christina mentioned something about a doll?"

"Right," the teacher stood, walking to her desk in the front of the class room, "That raggedy old thing. If I've told her once I have told her a hundred times not to bring her toys to school, but that girl never minds."

Myka put her gloves on discreetly, "We'll be sure to work on that," she mumbled with an eye roll.

The doll produced from the desk drawer seemed unassuming, and the teacher dropped it quickly into Myka's waiting hand, "Glad to be rid of it honestly. When I wrote the report up on it a couple weeks ago, it gave me an odd feeling. But then again, that Christina is an odd girl. I remember wishing she could finally see the world how it should be, instead of living in this fantasy world all the time." She shook her head, walking back to the table where Claudia was still typing madly away.

"If you'll excuse me, we do have so much work to do." Mrs. Johnson gave a dismissive wave of her hand in the direction of the door.

Myka didn't pay her any mind, walking in a daze out the door, letting her feet take her away without thinking. Because the object in her hand wasn't just a doll.

She held the limp doll in her gloved hand. She could still see the faded marks beneath the mismatched button eyes. A child's hand had drawn in the original features. She traced the careful stitching that was finally giving away after a hundred years. The faded clothes, stitched together from old curtain and table cloth swatches. Myka held it, and Myka stared, but she still could not comprehend how something so small, so deceptively benign could have taken one small misplaced wish and used it to turn her world on it's head.

It was the original Raggedy Ann doll, having belonged to Marcella Gruelle. She knew the story, forwards and backwards, she knew the girl found it while exploring her grandmother's attic. This small doll sparked her father's imagination to create hundreds of Raggedy Ann dolls and cartoons and stories. She knew that Marcella had gotten sick, had died clutching this doll at 13, wishing to not die, but to stay with her father. This wish infusing the unassuming toy with a specific power of wish granting.

Myka dropped the doll into the static bag, ducking as sparks flew, feeling the weight of everything fall on her at last, now that the mystery was solved. She was suddenly so very tired. She glanced up, realizing she had wandered into the school's playground, she let her feet drag her to the swing set, collapsing gratefully on to the hard plastic seat.

She leaned her head on the chains, intending to close her eyes, if only for a moment. Only to gather the strength to get up and return to the B&B for her second homecoming. She was just so tired.

"Myka?"

 _Or not_ , Myka sighed as she opened her eyes, watching as Claudia strode towards her, jaw dropped, eyes glazed slightly. The effects of the doll clearly gone.

"Claud-," Myka began, but was cut off as her face exploded in a sharp, stinging pain.

Claudia had slapped her, her chest still heaving with anger.

Myka touched her hot cheek, glancing up at her friend once more, trying to speak again, "Claudia-,"

But she was tackled with a hug, nearly knocking her off the swings from the force of it, but Claudia's crushing embrace kept her steady, "Don't you ever do that to us again." She growled through teeth.

"I won't." Myka finally gained enough sense to return the hug, "I'm done running."


	11. Almost Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got engaged, broke up, got a new girlfriend, moved halfway across the country and got two new jobs and lost my laptop charger in the move. I’m so sorry for the length of time that has passed. Please forgive me if I’m rusty.

****

            Time moved forward. Much as Myka tried to dig her heels in the present, she found herself hurtled towards the future. A scary, uncertain future where everything was tense and things scarcely made any sort of sense.

            Sure, things had gone back to almost normal, but that just seemed to make things worse for the agent. She and Pete went on retrievals, and he slowly stopped giving her the cold shoulder. He had been angry that she had left without even talking to him first, especially after everything they had been through in the last few years. Now they bantered like siblings and laughed like best friends once more.

            They spent evenings with Clauida and Steve, playing video games and watching TV with Christina. She started her weekly sessions with Abigale once more, nightmares revisiting her from the past worsening her ever growing fatigue.

            There was a forced, cold civility between her and the woman she loved now that wasn’t there before. A more concentrated cloud of what hung over all of them since Myka’s storm off. Helena was angry, perhaps more righteously than most, that Myka had left without looking back and had stayed away for so long. She was hurt, and still scared that she and Myka were truly no longer together.

            Myka had left a ring and a letter that was almost a proposal, and Helena hadn’t taken the ring off since, but she was also too afraid to talk about it, afraid that Myka would take it back, afraid things between them wouldn’t get any better. She couldn’t even allow herself to be alone with Myka anymore.

She too was speaking to Leena about her foggy head and torn heart as she hadn’t done since college.

Christina seemed to be the only one immune to the awkwardness around her mothers. She still demanded to sit between the two of them while they watched movies. She still requested they both put her to bed every evening. She constantly asked for them to do activities together, like the water park or the arcade.

Myka and Helena had done a very good job at skirting around one another as one week fell away after another, but their family couldn’t let that go on. They conspired quietly on ways to get the two women alone without the knowledge of either.

Helena was on inventory again, wondering where her partner had wandered off to. Steve always seemed to disappear when it came time for a census of a dozen or so of the seemingly endless rows of artifacts.

The work was mindless, something she normally detested, and yet welcomed as of late. She stayed away from the H.G. Wells section and avoided Wolly, hoping that when – she refused to say _if-_ she and Myka talked, she could show her some improvement, willingness to work on herself.

“Helena?” a shaky voice called out, and HG almost believed she had conjured it from her imagination, letting her mind get out of hand thinking of Myka so often while so alone. She didn’t immediately respond, and when the voice called out again, this time sounding much closer she simply stopped her writing, lowering her clipboard and tilting her head.

“Myka?” she attentively responded at a level barely over normal conversation tone.

The steady tapping of shoes on the floor drew ever nearer, announcing Myka’s approach just before she walked past the aisle Helena was currently working.

“Myka!” She called out with a bit more force, starting towards the end of the aisle to try and catch her before she wandered too far.

They collided with twin sharp exhales at the top of the row, sending them both to the floor even as they tried to steady each other. After a heartbeat of embarrassed, startled silence, they both burst into laughter, each forgetting for one moment, the unsurpassable chasm of space they felt between them. For one moment they were who they had always been together.

The laughter cut off suddenly as Myka’s face contorted in a spasm of pain, looking vaguely nauseated as it passed.

“Are you alright?” Helena reached out without thought, caressing her love’s face, smoothing out the lines there with a gentle thumb.

Myka leaned into the touch, a longing could be seen in her eyes just before she shut them tightly, pulling back once she remembered herself. “I’m fine,” she insisted, pulling her knees to her chest, but making no move to stand, “I just haven’t been feeling well lately.”

Helena’s heart turned violently inside of her chest, a sense of foreboding settling in a choking embrace around it as it settled. Myka still wasn’t feeling well, it had been weeks since her return, and she had supposedly been feeling sick for weeks before that.

“Artie sent me to do inventory with you,” she spoke without preamble, “something about being against regulation to do it alone and Steve being mysteriously unavailable.”

“Ah,” Helena nodded, “Since Arthur is getting involved with their scheming, it must be time that we give in and talk to one another. Would you like to start, or should I?”

“You lied.” Apparently Myka would start, and Helena nodded. A sign of acknowledgement, a sign for her to continue, “We were supposed to have a night with our daughter and you lied to get out of it. You spent the night hanging out with Wolly, playing in the H.G. Wells section. What was so important to you that you lied to me, that you manipulated my feelings and ditched out on your daughters night?”

Myka took a breath, and Helena began her explanation, looking everywhere except her demanding, accusatory eyes, “The lie built. I found _the_ H.G. Wells’ aisle, a whole aisle, Myka. And I wasn’t supposed to, that much was clear since it was left off of all the inventory lists. And I had to look, my curiosity worsening the more boxes I looked into, the more journals I read, and I wasn’t supposed to be there, I know that. I was breaking all sorts of rules, but I couldn’t stop. He was so brilliant, so much so that most of his work ended up archived as artifacts.

“Wolly caught me one night in the stacks I guess. I’m not sure, but that’s when he started blackmailing me. And it was easy to let him, because what he wanted was what I wanted, to keep researching Well’s and the artifacts and half built machines. I should have told you, I know that now. I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to protect you from the fallout when they found out what I was doing. It was stupid and I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence, and Helena had to look at Myka, had to try and make sense of what was going on in the other woman’s mind after her monologue. She found a blank stare that saw through her, Myka far back in her own mind, processing all she had heard. It was all Helena had tried to explain before Myka left, except now she was actually hearing her.

“I accept your apology,” Myka nodded, her eyes finally meeting Helena’s, “Though that doesn’t make it okay,” she pointed out, “I understand.”

Helena let out a long breath, a weight leaving her shoulders that had been slowly crushing her, “thank you,” she whispered, “I haven’t been back since that night. I couldn’t go back there after.”

“I would like for you to show me sometime.” Myka gave a small smile, nothing compared to the one she used to save for Helena alone, but it was a start, a small ray of hope there may be a future for them yet.

Myka looked at her shoes, playing with the laces, “It’s your turn.” She so softly Helena almost missed it, and then almost missed her meaning, then her own anger came.

“You left.” Her tone was sharp and Myka flinched, “You didn’t stay, you didn’t try to talk to me, you just left us, your family, your _daughter_ … You left us only with a letter and not a chance to fix anything. You ran away, Myka.” Helena felt tears brimming her eyes and she swiped angrily at her face before they could fall.

“And, granted, most of the time you were gone is a foggy lapse in my mind, but that almost hurts worse.” Her voice cracked and Myka squeezed her eyes shut, “I don’t remember anything but missing you, wanting you. Even that shell of a person I was when you returned knew that you had hurt me and she still wanted you more than anything. You were gone for so long, and you’ve avoided me so thoroughly since you’ve been back and it’s torture, damn it. Having you so close, and yet you are so terribly far from my reach is a hell I thought I had escaped from long ago. I miss you Myka. Can’t we just… start over? Can’t we go back to how it was before?”

“No, we can’t,” Myka shook her head and the pain that exploded in Helena was almost too much to bear and a small sob clawed its way free of her chest, but Myka kept talking, “But we can move forward. I don’t want to go back to how it was before, I want us to be better than before. No more lying, no more running away.”

“No more lying, no more running away,” Helena echoed, feeling a warmth blossom in her as she realized Myka still loved her, hadn’t given up on her.

Helena rose to her feet, offering a hand out to Myka, pulling her tightly to her chest once she was upright, never wanting to let go.

“We’re taking this slow,” Myka warned sternly, pulling away slightly, and while that hurt, Helena was just glad they were moving forward together, whatever the pace.


End file.
